Bowlcut Is My World, Part 3 – Fleur

Respect

Following the trim of my bowlcut by Athena, I felt much more confident around other people in college the following morning. My original haircut a month earlier had grown out of shape, so I had become increasingly self-conscious about my appearance. With it feeling refreshed and looking sharp once more, I felt self-assured.

Now that people had become familiar with my transformed appearance, my modest trim only generated limited interest around the college. However, it was inevitable that Clara, aways at the centre of any mischief around college, would take the opportunity to provoke me once again.

‘So, the new boy has been back to the barber I see!’ she snorted as she passed me in the corridor. She attempted to garner interest from her inner circle of her friends. However, none reacted to her taunting with anything more than a disinterested shrug, continuing along the corridor to their next lecture.

Without her reinforcements close by, I saw an opportunity to stand my ground and challenge Clara. Glaring at her, I rubbed a hand provocatively up and down my bare neck to demonstrate I was completely comfortable with my appearance.

‘Well, my hair is a lot neater than the bird’s nest resting on your head,’ I chuckled, referring to the goth-like half-up and half-down hairstyle – dyed black and infused with red and purple – that she currently favoured. Sadly, the over-use of colour had led to her hair looking dry and brittle, increasing the similarity to an abode for our feathered friends. Although Clara’s hair, along with her clothes and makeup, owed something to goth fashion, she did little to embrace the lifestyle.

Clara furtively looked up and down the corridor, either to thump me secretly or to ensure no one was within earshot. The latter proved to be the case. Catching me off guard, she surprised me by having the good grace to laugh at my crude riposte. ‘Fair enough,’ she acknowledged, before astounding me even more. ‘Actually, that haircut looks quite good, Katie,’ she murmured tentatively. ‘Well, on you, anyway … obviously, it wouldn’t suit me … but, actually, you look pretty cool,’ she begrudgingly conceded.

Having risked a light-hearted insult, I felt relief that I had not upset her. Indeed, I found her response flattering. However, it was reassuring that she considered that my bowlcut would not suit her because I had no desire for anyone to adopt my unique style. That said, I felt that, for her, it would be a major improvement.

Doing my best to avoid studying her hair for any longer, I nodded with a tight smile to show my appreciation of her remarks.

‘Respect,’ she added quickly, making a ham-fisted attempt to bump my fist, before scurrying away after her friends.

Rewind

‘Yes, respect from the college tyrant,’ I confirmed to my best friend, Emily, having related my interaction with Clara from earlier in the day.

‘Wow, that’s a first!’ she laughed. ‘I mean for anyone, not just for you. And that might grow when she sees the movie I have created.’ I gave Emily a quizzical look, unsure what she meant. ‘I’ve edited the video footage that I took of you on my phone yesterday evening.’

As filmmaking was part of the syllabus for Emily’s college course, she embraced all aspects of social media, computers, and videography, with ease. So, when she waved her phone, I was apprehensive about what she had done with the footage, worrying that she may have uploaded something I would find unflattering. However, I reserved my judgement, as the video commenced.

It opened with a still shot of me and Athena, my barber, in deep consultation. The frame morphed into our animated conversation about my desire for her to tidy up my bowlcut. The video then moved on to frenzied action, displaying a speeded-up version of Athena performing the initial tidy up of my hair. As Emily flamboyantly exhibited the result with a resounding “Ta-da!”, the image froze with me looking distinctly underwhelmed.

The video then inched forward highlighting my emphatic (cringeworthy!) gestures for her to make my even hair shorter so it would stay sharp for longer between trims. Emily’s developing editing skills resulted in my gesture comically repeated in a “start-stop” fashion. She punctuated the cyclic action with the word “Sharp!” barked repeatedly by each of us in turn. Emily must have pulled that word from the soundtrack of the original footage, and its usage was very amusing and remarkably effective.

A still image suddenly zoomed in and out of the screen with Athena’s red hairclippers filling the screen. The word “Oster” flashed repeatedly, leaving no doubt as to the menacing equipment that she had used to clipper my hair.

An accelerated sequence followed showing Athena raising the level of my bowlcut and fully revealing my ears and forehead. After a brief pause, Athena rapidly shaved the back and sides of my head using the newly introduced foil shaver. As I watched the video, I recalled the delightful sensation and looked forward to returning to her as soon I could.

A rapid sequence of still images, snapped from the video, hit the screen at crazy angles. Each photo showed me grinning with pleasure, punctuated by Athena repeatedly exclaiming “Ta-da!”.

The sound and vision faded momentarily, then my smiling face appeared once more, looking directly at Emily’s camera. My fingers came into view, forming a heart in the familiar and clichéd fashion. Reiterating my improvised moment, I morphed my hands into a bowl-like shape, using them to cup my chin. Then I cocked my head to one side and displayed my best smile.

“Bowlcut Is My World” were the words that purred gently from my lips on the video, as a banner scrolled along the bottom of the screen proclaiming #bowlcutismyworld.

‘Bowlcut is My World,’ I echoed thoughtfully as the screen slowly faded to black.

A silence fell between me and my best friend as I considered my response. ‘Well?’ Emily demanded, always impatient.

She had compressed my one-hour haircutting session with Athena to under a minute, without leaving out any significant moment. Furthermore, she had weaved it into one of the most creative, fun and enticing social media videos I had ever watched … and I did not hold that view simply because it featured me looking my best! I was truly delighted.

‘Yeah, it’s fine,’ I murmured nonchalantly, managing to keep a straight face.

Influence

‘Fine!’ Emily exclaimed. ‘Fine?’ she raged, probing with exasperation at my cool response to her edited video of my latest haircut. ‘I was up half the night doing that and … and -’

Unable to maintain my stony face any longer, I grinned broadly, interrupting my friend’s ranting.

Emily thumped me playfully on the shoulder. ‘Okay, Katie. You got me,’ she conceded.

‘It’s absolutely brilliant,’ I confirmed, and gave her a big hug. ‘Although I would have appreciated seeing how you portrayed me before you uploaded,’ I added stiffly, not unreasonably I thought.

‘Ah, but did you see traction it’s achieved in just a few hours?’ Emily asked, pride colouring her tone.

I glanced at her phone again. The number of people who indicated they liked the video of my haircut was astounding. Furthermore, I found it astonishing the number of people who had left comments, and who had then shared it.

‘Wow, what can I say to that?’ I remarked in wonder.

Emily looked at me pensively. ‘I think you know,’ she suggested, winking at me.

I shrugged as I looked at my best friend, cupped my chin in my hands, and then smiled before I said the only thing I could say. ‘Bowlcut is My World!’

Impact

‘Look at this!’ Emily insisted, thrusting her phone in my face. It was a couple of days after she had posted the video of my recent haircut on social media.

I had dipped into the comments regarding me and my bowlcut. However, I had not been inclined to look through the stream of words in any detail, although I was pleased to see they were mostly favourable. Emily had become my unofficial social media secretary, so it was her job to monitor the feedback! She had kept asking excitedly if I had seen the traction the video was getting. But, to her disappointment, I had not taken a great deal of notice. However, given the effort she had invested in editing, I was pleased for her as it would provide a valuable study for her coursework.

Despite Emily waving her phone in my face, I did not feel the need to read any more “awesome” comments expressing how “cool” I was and offering me “respect”. However, it was pleasing that Clara, my occasional tormentor, had included the last of those words in a comment along with a “smiley” for good measure.

I had things I wanted to get on with so social media feedback was not a priority. ‘Thanks, Emily, but -’

‘No, this is so different. Just watch, please, Katie,’ my best friend pleaded.

I sighed at the thought of ploughing through more comments, but I took hold of Emily’s phone and turned my attention to the screen.

FashionablyFleur

Emily set in motion a social media video by a person called FashionablyFleur. An attractive woman of around thirty, she exhibited much greater poise and confidence than I demonstrated whenever I appeared in front of a camera.

Fleur was promenading flamboyantly down a street, filming herself using a camera on a selfie-stick. She performed as if she was a model on a catwalk during a fashion shoot. Fleur was wearing a gorgeous white lace summer minidress paired with a leather jacket, both garments looking refined and expensive. With classy accessories and expertly applied make-up, stylish Fleur was living up to her social media handle by presenting herself extremely fashionably.

Alongside the video were the inevitable flood of comments and hashtags. Included in the sea of words was the phrase “In reply to: Katie_051016”. Despite recognising my own social media handle, I had no recollection of seeing, let alone commenting, on the profile of FashionablyFleur. I suspected Emily’s involvement but, keen to get on with other things, I simply let the video run without interruption.

I noted that Fleur had paused by a flight of steps that led up to a glass door. She was pointing to an elaborate sign that denoted the premises were known as The Hair Lounge. The scene suggested she was about to enter an elegant and expensive women’s hairdressing salon, one that looked incredibly different to the plain and functional Cutting Edge by Athena barbershop that I frequented.

Given that Fleur was entering a hairdressing salon, I took a moment to examine her hair. By any definition, it looked terrible … well, in my considered opinion! Long wispy tendrils coiled tragically down her back, while progressively shorter layers at the sides did their best to frame her face. On her crown, her hair was ridiculously short in a spiky manner that resembled a strange species of bird.

Despite lacking knowledge of hairdressing jargon, I knew Fleur’s hairstyle was termed a mullet. Allegedly it been fashionable from time to time but, fortunately, it was a rare sight in the provincial town where I lived. However, whether trendy or not, it looked completely out of place on a style influencer who called herself FashionablyFleur.

Evelyn

Thinking back, the time I had become aware of the mullet hairstyle was when impressionable Evelyn, an art lecturer at college, had sadly succumbed. However, she had only kept it briefly as her transformed appearance attracted an unkind nickname that derived from the name of the style. Understandably, she was keen for people to stop calling her that!

Prior to her mullet, Evelyn had long straight hair, without any layers, but suffused with a plethora of colours that seemed appropriate for a woman teaching art. Then she had appeared in college one morning with her hair hacked about mercilessly into the so-called fashionable style. Thin and uneven layers barely covered her shoulders, and short tufty lengths on the crown stuck up like a cockerel.

Evelyn wisely took to wearing colourful headscarves for a while. When she finally put those aside, she wore her hair in a dull and lifeless layered style that barely reached her shoulders, and without any colourful additions. It was boring and certainly not the look for an edgy art lecturer. Sadly, one unkind person coined a new nickname for her and, until she finally added coloured highlights, she was stuck with the name “Mouse”.

Fleur’s example of a mullet did not look quite as atrocious as that of Evelyn. However, I suspected it had been a while since she had had it cut. It more closely resembled a long, heavily layered style but with the crown hair mercifully flat. However, the layers had grown out unevenly and in odd directions that served to make the overall style look ghastly. For Fleur’s sake, I hoped the salon she was walking into was not the original culprit. I also prayed they would be able to undertake swift remedial action.

Jason

Following my reminiscence of Evelyn, I watched Fleur flouncing into The Hair Lounge. A tall, smartly dressed man in his forties greeted her with air kisses, then he escorted her to a salon chair. From their familiarity, I gathered he must be her regular hairstylist. If so, he would have been responsible for her horrendous haircut, so why would she choose to go back I wondered.

A text box flashed in one corner of the screen informing the viewer that he was Jason, allegedly a “super-stylist” and confirming she went to him regularly.

Jason took Fleur’s leather jacket. He hung it neatly in a wardrobe before helping guide her arms into a dated floral hairstyling gown. To my mind, that typified the establishment as a traditional salon favoured by a more mature clientele. It seemed strange that a young influencer like FashionablyFleur would grace such a place with her presence.

The motion of the vlogging camera steadied. Given the perspective shown, I assumed that Fleur had positioned it on a shelf under the mirror, allowing her to film herself unencumbered. Having sat down, she produced her phone, tapped the screen, then showed it to Jason who was looming over her.

‘I think I’m done with the mullet now, Jason,’ Fleur declared on the video, ‘and I need a change. So, please could you do this for me?’ she added sweetly.

His eyes widened comically as he studied the screen. He then screwed them up tightly as if he had sucked a lemon, while Fleur continued to swipe through more images with great enthusiasm.

‘Well, Fleur, I suppose I could cut that style,’ Jason admitted petulantly. ‘But why not allow me to just trim what I did for you last time. The mullet is still so fashionable, and you are wonderful walking advertisement for my talent,’ he suggested pretentiously, fingering poor Fleur’s sparse and wayward layers.

‘No, it is not fashionable!’ I yelled at Emily’s phone, irritated by his prissy attitude to his client. My friend laughed at my boisterous and heartfelt reaction to his misleading assertion.

‘Thank you, Jason,’ Fleur said patiently and, momentarily, he looked happier. ‘But it is my hair. And I would like a change,’ she stated, matching his petulance. ‘And this time, Jason, FashionablyFleur would like to be ahead of the latest trend, rather than a season behind it!’

‘Ahead? What, with that?’ the prissy hairstylist spat contemptuously, waving his hand dismissively at her phone screen. Fleur nodded enthusiastically. ‘You might have been trendy with that style decades ago when I started in the industry,’ he snapped dismissively, with the consumed lemon once again pinching his features. ‘But not now, not today and not from me, Fleur,’ he huffed, releasing her hair, and then crossing his arms defiantly.

Fleur let out a long sigh of exasperation. ‘Well, I would like it all the same, Jason … so it appears that I will have to go elsewhere,’ she stated coyly, leaving an expressive pause to allow Jason to consider his options. ‘And, naturally, I will let all the followers of FashionablyFleur know the reason why I changed my hairstylist.’

Jason’s eyes widened in horror, recognising the impact of social media on his standing in the industry, despite expressing his dated views in his dated salon.

‘Ah …’ Jason murmured, visibly relaxing his posture, then he uncrossed his arms and patted Fleur lightly on the shoulders.

‘And you do know how many followers I have don’t you, Jason?’ she added.

The answer to Fleur’s rhetorical question would have been known to Jason, but it served to make me aware of her influence in the world of style.

‘Ah …’ he murmured again, nodding begrudgingly.

At that moment, Jason looked horrified as he stared straight at Fleur’s camera, realising it had been recording his petulant antics. ‘Well, Fleur, there is absolutely no need to be hasty,’ he said calmly but with a pronounced nervous edge to his voice.

‘Perhaps, perhaps not …’ Fleur smiled, ‘but, anyway, I am confident you will do an absolutely wonderful job as you always do.’

Jason took a deep breath before responding. ‘Well, I suppose I could adapt the style you have indicated, so making it your own. I could tailor it to suit your appearance and personality. And I could soften it so it’s no quite so severe,’ he pondered. ‘But I promise you will leave here looking stunning as always, and you will be a walking advertisement for my artistry and skills,’ he gushed, gleefully clapping his hands, and forcing a smile.

I paused the video as the screen faded. ‘Wow, what a funny pair!’ I chuckled, looking at Emily. ‘That was hilarious,’ I remarked, although I was unsure why she had felt the need to show it to me other than for my amusement. ‘It certainly makes me grateful for Athena’s no-nonsense approach to cutting hair rather than that prissy Jason, that’s for sure.’

‘Definitely! That Jason is certainly a pretentious twat,’ Emily concisely and accurately summarised, ‘but that isn’t the reason I am showing you the video. Please, Katie, just watch it for a little bit longer,’ my friend urged, releasing the pause.

I shrugged and, once more, turned my attention back to the screen.

Action

Fleur reappeared on the video, seated with wet hair that Jason was combing through. He sectioned off parts of her hair, pinning them on the crown, leaving long damp tendrils down her back. Jabbing with his scissors, without mercy, he chopped off the long layers close to the hairline at Fleur’s the nape.

Fleur’s eyes widened and she gave a little whimper while watching the remainder of her long hair sliding down the haircutting gown.

Jason accompanied the decisive action with a heavy sigh. It indicated he was far from happy at following Fleur’s precise instructions. He kept glancing at the camera, and I suspected that its presence moderated his priggish behaviour and kept his lemon-infused frown from reappearing.

With the high drama completed and the remainder of Fleur’s hair reduced to short lengths, the video speeded up. Comically, Jason strutted at high speed around the styling chair, measuring, snipping and checking. His expert scissors swiftly consigned all of Fleur’s layers to the salon floor, creating a blunt outline to her hair. Jason fashioned a short fringe across Fleur’s forehead, snipped the hair at her nape very short, and skilfully trimmed the remaining damp hair into a smooth flowing shape.

With the aid of a blow-dyer and round brush, Jason coaxed Fleur’s hair into its the final look. The hair around the perimeter of the style all obediently turned. Her fringe laid flat. He had snipped her hair much shorter at her nape, and it peeked out from under the curved shape of the longer hair above. As the hair dried, I began to realise Fleur’s new hairstyle looked strangely familiar.

Re-creation

As Jason put down his styling tools and replaced them with a hand mirror, the video returned to normal speed. He hovered behind Fleur, holding up the mirror, showing her the finished style from different angles. He appeared to have forgotten his earlier misgivings as he beamed while revelling in his own expertise.

Fleur carefully examined her transformed appearance. Her growing smile radiated her pleasure as she noted all the finer points of the style. Getting to her feet, Fleur shrugged off the floral haircutting gown, adjusted her white dress, and moved closer to the camera.

Although it was a cliché, Fleur clearly felt the need to show love for her followers by forming a heart with her fingers. I nodded, recognising the gesture and smiling at the familiarity. However, what happened next was completely unexpected.

Fleur altered the position of her fingers, creating a bowl-like shape with her hands. She cupped her chin, cocked her head to one side, smiled coyly at the lens, and then she spoke.

‘Bowlcut is My World,’ Fleur breathed.

I was speechless.

A banner scrolled along the bottom of the screen proclaiming #bowlcutismyworld.

The image of Fleur’s smiling features faded on the screen.

I looked over at a smiling Emily, completely lost for words. As I was about to speak, the screen brightened and showed Fleur still holding her pose.

‘I want to give an extra special shout out to creative Katie, whose socials are linked in the comments,’ Fleur gushed. ‘Thank you so much for your wonderful inspiration, and for influencing me, FashionablyFleur, to stay ahead of the curve with her hairstyle.’ After a brief pause, she added, ‘Katie, Bowlcut is our World.’

‘Bowlcut is our World,’ I echoed dumbly, as if Fleur could hear me.

Revelation

‘Gosh, that was, er, interesting, but what was it all about, Emily?’ I thought I knew but, in that moment, I felt overwhelmed. ‘I mean, has she copied me and, if so, is that allowed? All this social media stuff … I don’t get it.’

Emily, the social media geek, sighed in exasperation. ‘Right, Katie, a major fashion and lifestyle influencer – FashionablyFleur – liked your haircut,’ she patiently explained as if talking to a child. ‘Or, more accurately, she appreciated the traction my video of your haircut was getting! So, as you saw, she press-ganged her regular hairstylist into giving her a bowlcut. She showed him pictures of you on her phone, which is marvellous,’ she gushed. ‘As you saw he wasn’t keen initially, but fortunately he had all the necessary skills to do a fantastic job.’

‘Her hair looked longer than mine though,’ I remarked.

‘Yes, her style is more of a short bob, even a pageboy bob, rather than a bowlcut,’ Emily admitted. ‘Well, that’s according to the informed – and uninformed, and misinformed – comments made on her video.’

‘That’s good,’ I commented, grateful for my continuing uniqueness.

‘It is, but all that’s immaterial as it’s the social media engagement we’re concerned about,’ Emily continued eagerly. I did not know if that was my concern, but I let her assertion go. ‘Fleur’s followers have noted that Jason didn’t use hairclippers. Her style looked more like that initial refresh Athena gave you last week. But Fleur has posted that she may consider going more severe next time, and that has boosted the interaction in the comments even more.’

‘Gosh,’ I repeated, unsure what I could contribute to my friend’s infectious joy.

‘Katie – Creative Katie has a definite ring to it, so perhaps we can work on that – you have successfully influenced a highly influential influencer, and -’

‘That’s a lot of influence,’ I quipped. ‘So, you’re saying her video attracted a few comments, did it? I asked innocently, not expecting a video of someone’s haircut to have more than a passing interest for anyone. After all, who watches haircuts of videos?

Emily showed me her phone screen again, and my jaw hit the floor. ‘Yes, Katie, as you can see, far more than a few comments. But also, hundreds of “likes” and plenty of “shares”, and she has only just been posted the video,’ she stated excitedly.

‘Well, I suppose that’s nice for her,’ I shrugged. ‘Although I’m not sure how I feel about someone copying me, even if her hairstyle isn’t identical and she is from the other end of the country. After all, my appearance was unique,’ I contemplated. ‘Besides, your video of me didn’t attract anywhere near as much interest as hers, and that seems unfair.’

Emily let out an exasperated sigh once again. ‘That’s true, Katie, but Fleur included a link to your video, and she used your hashtag and -’

‘I guess that’s nice,’ I remarked innocently.

‘More than nice, Katie,’ my best friend enthused. ‘Because of the way social media works – hashtags, shares, and all that – interest in your original video is going through the roof. We’re going viral!’

‘Gosh,’ was all I could manage initially. After a thoughtful pause, I smiled at my best friend and added wondrously, ‘Bowlcut is My World!’

To be continued

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