Nash Girls: Services Ladies Missed

The automobile factory had changed more than just the working hours of the women of Kenosha.
Ever since Nash began hiring women in greater numbers, the beauty shops around town had been losing customers. Some women simply couldn’t afford their regular appointments anymore. Others were working twelve-hour shifts and had little time for anything beyond eating, sleeping, and returning to the factory.
And then there were the women who had discovered Frank’s Barbershop.
Frank had originally opened his three-chair establishment to serve the men working at the automobile factory across the street. But the arrival of women at Nash had changed everything.
Now, on certain mornings, there were more women waiting for haircuts than men.
Vivian, the twenty-four-year-old former beauty shop owner who had taken over the middle chair, had developed quite a following.
She was particularly popular with the women who wanted their long hair cut short.
But one Thursday morning, a regular customer brought up something Vivian hadn’t considered.
Her name was Ellen Whitcomb, a forty-two-year-old married woman who had recently taken a position at Nash.
Ellen had been coming to Frank’s for nearly two months. Vivian had cut her formerly waist-length hair into a practical bob that barely reached her ears.
That morning, she was back for a trim.
“Vivian, can I ask you something rather personal?”
Vivian continued combing Ellen’s hair.
“Of course.”
“Do you remember when you had your aunt’s beauty shop?”
“I certainly do.”
“Well, you used to offer more than haircuts, didn’t you?”
Vivian smiled.
“Hair washing, scalp treatments, manicures, facial treatments, eyebrow shaping. Just about everything a lady might want.”
“Exactly.”
Ellen hesitated.
“Well, that’s the problem.”
“What problem?”
“Ever since I started coming here, I haven’t been going to my regular beauty parlor. I don’t see the point. You do a better job cutting my hair, and your hours suit my factory schedule.”
“That’s nice to hear.”
“But there are certain things a woman can’t very well ask for in a barbershop full of men.”
Vivian stopped combing.
“Oh?”
Ellen lowered her voice.
“Personal grooming. Things I used to have done privately.”
Vivian understood.
“Ah.”
“Exactly.”
From the first chair, Frank looked over.
“Everything all right over there?”
“Perfectly fine, Frank,” Vivian answered. “Just discussing some additional services.”
Frank raised an eyebrow.
“Additional services?”
“Never mind. I’ll explain later.”
Frank returned to his customer.
Ellen leaned toward Vivian.
“See what I mean?”
Vivian laughed.
“I certainly do.”
THE BACK ROOM
Frank’s Barbershop had a small room behind the main shop.
Originally, Frank had used it for storing supplies, clean towels, spare barber equipment, and occasionally taking his lunch.
There was a washbasin, a mirror, a wooden cabinet, and enough room for a narrow treatment chair.
Vivian had been thinking about making better use of the space.
That evening, after the last customer left, she approached Frank.
“Frank, I have a proposition.”
Frank was counting the day’s receipts.
“That usually means I’m going to spend money.”
“Not very much.”
“That’s what worries me.”
Vivian pulled up a chair.
“You know how many women we’re cutting hair for now?”
“Hard not to notice.”
“Well, they’re not going to their old beauty parlors anymore.”
“Isn’t that the idea?”
“For haircuts, yes. But those beauty parlors offered other services.”
Frank looked puzzled.
“Such as?”
“Eyebrows, facial treatments, manicures, and private grooming appointments.”
Frank considered that.
“You’re talking about turning my barbershop into a beauty parlor?”
“No. I’m talking about offering services these women already paid for somewhere else.”
“Where would you do them?”
“In the back room.”
Frank leaned back.
“That little room?”
“With a proper chair, a screen, clean linens, and a few supplies, it would work beautifully.”
Frank rubbed his chin.
“And who’s going to do all this?”
“I am.”
“You already have customers lined up for haircuts.”
“Then we’ll make appointments for the private services. Early mornings, evenings, whenever the schedule allows.”
Frank thought about the women coming off the Nash shifts.
His shop was already open from six until ten in the morning and again from six until ten at night on his busiest days.
“Well,” he finally said, “if there’s money to be made, I suppose we can try it.”
Vivian smiled.
“There’s one other thing.”
“Naturally.”
“I’d like a door that locks.”
Frank stared at her.
“A locking door?”
“Frank, some ladies want privacy.”
He shook his head.
“Thirty-five years old, spent years cutting men’s hair, and now I’m learning things I never expected to learn.”
Vivian laughed.
“Welcome to the modern world.”
ELLEN’S APPOINTMENT
The following Tuesday, Ellen arrived shortly after seven in the evening.
Frank was cutting a factory worker’s hair in the first chair. Eddie, the youngest barber, was cleaning his station.
Vivian greeted Ellen.
“You’re right on time.”
Ellen looked around.
“Are we doing this out here?”
“Certainly not. Come with me.”
She led Ellen through the rear doorway.
The little room had changed considerably.
A comfortable upholstered chair stood beneath a bright electric lamp. Fresh towels were stacked on a shelf. A large mirror hung above the washbasin.
A folding screen stood in the corner.
Ellen looked impressed.
“My goodness. You’ve made quite a place out of this.”
“Frank complained about every dollar.”
“I heard that!” Frank called from the front.
Vivian shut the door.
“Don’t mind him.”
Ellen laughed.
“He’s quite a character.”
“He is. Now, what would you like done?”
Ellen sat down.
“First, my eyebrows. They’re getting terribly untidy.”
“That I can certainly manage.”
Vivian draped a towel over Ellen’s shoulders and began carefully shaping her eyebrows with tweezers.
They talked about factory work, the women on Ellen’s shift, and the changes happening around Kenosha.
Ellen mentioned that her husband still wasn’t entirely comfortable with her working at Nash.
“He says the factory is no place for a married woman.”
“What do you tell him?”
“That the factory pays better than staying home.”
Vivian chuckled.
“That’s a difficult argument to beat.”
When the eyebrows were finished, Ellen examined them in the mirror.
“Wonderful. Just like when I used to visit my old beauty parlor.”
Vivian put away her tools.
“Anything else?”
Ellen hesitated.
“Well, yes. There was another service I used to have done.”
Vivian waited.
“It’s rather embarrassing.”
“There’s no need to be embarrassed. I worked in a ladies’ beauty shop for years.”
Ellen explained that her former stylist had helped her with discreet personal grooming, particularly before summer holidays and special occasions.
She missed being able to arrange those appointments.
“Would you be willing to provide that sort of service here?”
Vivian considered the request.
“I can offer basic trimming and grooming, provided we’re both comfortable with the arrangements. Anything requiring specialized treatment would be better handled by someone properly trained for it.”
Ellen nodded.
“That’s perfectly reasonable.”
Vivian showed her the supplies and explained what she could offer.
There was no rush and no pressure.
After discussing the options, Ellen decided to keep the appointment simple.
“Let’s begin with the usual grooming and see how things go.”
“Very well.”
Vivian arranged the screen and gave Ellen the privacy she needed to prepare.
For Ellen, the important thing was that she could once again take care of her personal appearance without finding another beauty shop whose hours conflicted with her factory work.
And Vivian appreciated having the opportunity to use skills that had once been part of her daily business.
When they finished, Ellen was pleased.
“I can’t tell you how convenient this is.”
“Then perhaps you’ll tell some of the other ladies.”
Ellen smiled.
“Oh, I imagine you’ll be hearing from them.”
THE WORD GETS AROUND
By Thursday morning, Vivian had received three inquiries.
One woman wanted her eyebrows shaped.
Another wanted a manicure.
A third wanted to know whether Vivian could provide private grooming appointments like the ones she’d previously arranged at her beauty parlor.
By the following week, Vivian had started keeping a separate appointment book.
Frank noticed it sitting beside the cash register.
“What’s this?”
“My private appointments.”
Frank opened the book.
“Good heavens. You’ve got half the women at Nash written down in here.”
“Not quite half.”
“How much are you charging?”
Vivian explained her prices.
Frank looked at the figures.
“That’s not bad money.”
“I told you.”
He closed the book.
“Just so long as it doesn’t interfere with the haircuts.”
“It won’t.”
“And you’re keeping that back room clean?”
“Spotless.”
“And the ladies are satisfied?”
“Very.”
Frank nodded.
“Then I suppose we’ve got ourselves another little business.”
Vivian smiled.
“That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say.”
A NEW KIND OF CUSTOMER
One evening, Ellen returned with a friend named Martha.
Martha was thirty-eight, worked the same shift at Nash, and had been considering cutting her hair short for several weeks.
She had heard about Vivian’s private appointments.
As they entered the shop, Frank was sharpening a straight razor.
“Evening, ladies.”
“Good evening, Frank,” Ellen replied.
Martha glanced toward the back room.
“Is that where Vivian does the other work?”
Frank looked up.
“Other work?”
Ellen gave him an amused look.
“You know perfectly well what we mean.”
Frank set down his razor.
“Lady, I’ve learned it’s better not to ask too many questions around here.”
Vivian emerged from the back.
“Martha! Ellen told me you might be coming.”
Martha touched the long hair pinned at the back of her head.
“I think I’m finally ready to have this cut.”
“How short?”
“About like Ellen’s.”
Vivian smiled.
“That we can certainly do.”
Martha looked toward the back room again.
“And afterward, perhaps we could discuss some of those other services.”
“Of course. We can arrange another appointment.”
Frank watched Vivian lead Martha toward the middle barber chair.
Then he turned to Eddie.
“You know, when I opened this place, I figured I’d spend my life cutting the hair of men who worked across the street.”
Eddie grinned.
“Things sure have changed.”
Frank looked at the waiting chairs, where two more women had just settled in.
“They certainly have.”
He picked up his scissors.
“And as long as they keep paying for haircuts, I suppose I can get used to it.”
From the middle chair, Vivian called out.
“Frank, don’t forget. We need another dozen clean towels for the back room.”
Frank sighed.
“More towels.”
“And some additional shelves.”
“More shelves.”
“And perhaps another lamp.”
Frank looked toward the ceiling.
“Anything else?”
Vivian smiled.
“Not today.”
Eddie burst out laughing.
Frank shook his head and returned to work.
Across the street, the Nash factory whistle sounded.
Another shift was ending.
And another group of women would soon be coming through Frank’s front door.

+1