Šišanje

I got the best haircut I have had in a long time Saturday morning. Maybe the cut itself wasn't the greatest - my hair has been thinned to an almost-ridiculous degree, but the experience was great.

I went to a place that a woman I know from work recommended. She always has great hair. She’s also in her mid-60’s so I was expecting an old lady salon. No one there—clients or stylists—was over 30, which makes me think even more highly of my friend.

I was a bit nervous about the whole thing. My haircut vocabulary is terrible in English. My usual request is ‘shorter, relatively low maintenance, and please don’t make me look like a triangle head,’ which is typically interpreted well. It had been five months since my last haircut – which I got at my favorite beer-serving punk rock barbershop – but it had kept its shape surprisingly well, so all I had to say this time was ‘shorter.’

But I am getting ahead of myself. The best part of the whole experience was the shampooing. It had been a long time since I had leaned back into a fancy salon sink. (The punks don’t do such things.) Having someone else wash my hair—especially when the shampooing involves scalp massage—is among the best feelings that I know.

And the haircut was good, too. My friend warned me in advance that the hairdresser is not one who chats (something that a foreign friend was warned about a different hairdresser – I think it’s strange that such things are warned about.), so I felt okay when the conversation stopped after a few pleasantries. She echoed the only-in-Serbia comment that I look like Nicole Kidman. I am not one to chat at the salon, anyway, as I like my hairdresser to be giving my hair their full attention… although there was that one time that I read aloud part of a Rushdie novel to F and the punk that was cutting her hair…

And she blow dried my hair straight, which was nice and something I am too impatient to do for myself. I became straight-haired Rachel (which feels like an alternate personality) for a few day, laughing at myself while I showered with a plastic bag on my head to preserve my straight locks.

-

Months ago in my Serbian class, we read a newspaper article about unemployment. It said that the day after men get fired, they spend all day in the kafana. Women head to the salon after they lose a job. I didn’t understand it then, but now I see why.