An outing to the Hairdresser

Getting my hair cut has always been one of my favourite things to do. I have had short hair since about 1958. I can hardly remember my long ponytail, but I do have a few photos to remind me.

My hairdresser is in Covent Garden and I just spent a delightful morning in town window shopping, promenading and having my hair cut.

I should add at this point that my hair is still falling out. It's much finer and thinner than it's ever been.  It also hasn't really been growing. Usually I have my hair cut every five weeks.  This time it's been over two months and I could have waited since it's grown so little.  My hairdresser, Mark, has been cutting my hair for well over 17 years and he assured me that the loss is all over and not just at the crown, so it's probably temporary. Great!  All over hair loss is so reassuring!  All my recent blood tests were normal and I breathed a big sigh of relief over that, but it does mean that this unexplained hair loss is probably caused by what Ralph and I refer to as 'Mishigas Disease'. Mishigas Disease is much harder to cure than other diseases and generally involves guilt, stress, anxiety, tension and blame.  I will attempt to buck the trend of thousands of years of the Jewish people and let go of these in the hope that my hair starts to come back.

Meanwhile, as I was walking down a sunny street in Covent Garden watching people sitting outside and having their lunch I remembered the times I would take my 7 year old daughter to posh hairdressers and sometimes hairdressing schools and then go to a chocolate shop and buy lovely chocolates for both of us.  It was always more than just a haircut, it was a chance to have what we used to call 'ladies days' together and the memories are as sweet as the chocolates were.. 

In the 1960's in New York I would go to Vidal Sassoon's and have geometric cuts and then in London I went to trendy salons and had wonderful haircuts.  there were occasional lapses.  Haircuts that time lets us forget - the Elvis style perms, the curly perms, the henna curls and the time I streaked my hair blonde - wow, what a brave mistake.  Mostly my hair is the same each time. Slight variations, a little longer when my face is rounder, a bit shorter when I'm feeling particularly confident, but always short and I really like it.

I love the feeling of being pampered. I get my cup of cappuccino, my lovely head massage and I get to gossip like crazy with my hairdresser.  He probably knows me better than some of the people I call friends.  I see him every six weeks for a very intense hour in which we tear apart celebrities, talk about partners, families and getting older. He is suitably complimentary and always leaves me feeling better and younger looking than when I walked in. 

The hour I spend getting my hair cut is usually followed by a wander through Covent Garden market, a stop for a drink and maybe I even stick my head into one of the better second-hand shops in the same area.  All in all, a great day.

Tomorrow, a matinee at the National Theatre. I really do love living in this city!