Anette: You got the Look (for KB75)

Anette spent the walk to the salon running her fingers through the long, heavy curls that tumbled past her shoulders. Her boyfriend, Marcus, adored those curls—he loved wrapping them around his fingers while they watched movies or burying his face in them when he pulled her close. But Anette was captivated by something bolder.

For months, she had been obsessed with 1980s pop aesthetics: the sharp, high-contrast silhouettes, and specifically the iconic look Sheena Easton rocked in the “U Got the Look” video. She craved that fierce style—short, shaved, and tight around the sides, with a storm of luscious curls spilling recklessly over her forehead. Part of her even daydreamed about a severe, ultra-straight shaved bowl cut, but tonight, she wanted the best of both worlds: extreme structure on the bottom, wildly free curls on top.

She pushed open the door to Blade & Crown, a stylish unisex barbershop illuminated by neon lighting and classic leather chairs. The shop was quiet. Standing by the back chair was Frankie, the only barber on duty tonight. Dressed head-to-toe in black, his arms covered in intricate tattoos, he was polishing a pair of shears.

Anette paused at the threshold, suddenly shy. “Oh, I’m sorry—do I need an appointment?” she demurred, taking a half-step back.

Frankie looked up, giving her a warm, easy smile that instantly put her at ease. “Not at all. Come on in. I can take care of you right now.”

She took a seat, and Frankie draped a crisp cape over her shoulders, wrapping a soft collar around her neck to get her completely cozy. As she explained her vision, Frankie listened intently, nodding with sharp, professional enthusiasm. He knew exactly what she wanted.

First, Frankie meticulously sectioned her hair, parting off the crown and setting to work on the texture. He rolled the top section using tiny perm rods to ensure the tightest, punchiest curl definition possible. When he applied the perm solution, the pungent chemical smell filled the air—hardly a luxury fragrance, but to Anette, it was the exciting scent of transformation.

Once the top was processed and rinsed, Frankie picked up his clippers. The low hum vibrated pleasantly against Anette’s scalp as he began sculpting a severe fade around the back of her neck and above her ears, bringing the sides down to bare skin. The sheer sensation of the clippers buzzing so close to her head gave her a thrill of pure liberation.

Next came the detailing. Frankie whipped up a warm lather, applied it around her hairline, and unfolded a gleam of steel—a straight razor. Anette felt a sudden flutter of nervousness as the bare blade touched her skin, but Frankie’s hand was steady, precise, and gentle as he scraped away the fine stubble. To complete the edgy look, he expertly carved a sharp, punk-inspired zig-zag part right into her hairline.

When he unclipped the top, painstakingly removing the rods, her fresh curls tumbled forward, cascading down one side of her forehead just as she’d envisioned.

Frankie handed her a hand mirror. Anette gasped. It was stunning—a high-voltage contrast of skin-tight buzz work on the sides and a plush, voluminous crown of curls spilling over her brow. Thrilled beyond belief, she handed Frankie a massive tip, hugged him, and practically floated out into the cool evening air.

By the time she reached her front door, however, reality set in. Panic hit her like a wave. Marcus. He loved her long hair. What if he hated this? What if she’d gone too far?

Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Marcus was sitting on the couch. As he turned around, his eyes widened, and he froze.

Anette’s heart pounded in her chest. “I… I got it cut,” she whispered, her hands hovering nervously over the freshly shaved sides of her head.

Marcus stood up, walked slowly across the room, and stared at her in absolute awe. A slow, brilliant smile broke across his face.

“Anette,” he breathed, stepping close and gently placing his hand against the smooth, buzzed side of her scalp before running his fingers through the soft, cascading curls on top. “You look completely incredible. It’s so fierce.”

Relief washed over her, instantly replaced by warmth. Marcus pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply, his touch lingering on the bold new lines of her hair. The anxiety vanished entirely, leaving only the start of a long, deeply romantic night.

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