From my exhaustive research (gossiping with mates, reading articles, dating), there are some vital differences between men and women. Men, for example, always have got pockets. Women, for example, believe in the transformative power of clothes and haircuts and are therefore happy to spend huge amounts of time and money on them.
We need good hair. As a journalist noted when interviewing the fabulous SJP, her hair does most of the work. So I approach Hari’s hairdressing salon in South Kensington expecting a miracle. I’ve arrived by bike, in windy conditions, which is a mistake and it shows.
I’m greeted and gowned and as I take my seat, I look in horror at my hair. Clearly, I shouldn’t have waited this long for my haircut. What have I been thinking? I have total confidence in the hairstylist, and Hari’s is a busy place. The ground floor is surprisingly small. There is an eclectic mix of clients; I see an immaculate septuagenarian, with that hair so styled, sprayed and solid, it rises many inches above her head. I see a 30-something, sample size skinny in yoga kit, leaving with her endless blonde locks in rollers, and a man reading the FT and having invisible millimetres trimmed. Everyone has the hair cut they want, which speaks volumes for the salon. And, one hour later, so do I. Some layers, some shaping, some blowdrying, and I feel quite fabulous; I’ve got swingy, bouncy hair. It falls over my face nicely and it’s big. However, you’ll have to trust me on this, because I didn’t take a picture of it until I had cycled home, in windy conditions, and it shows.
PS – I loved the whole Hari’s experience so much that I returned for highlights. Just a few, here and there. You can hardly see them. I love them like a first born.