Christine – a new change

It was mid to late April. I was 19 and had wanted to do something with my hair for some time. Mum had long hair, and she had let mine grow also, only trimming the ends from time to time to keep it tidy. She usually had her own hair permed once a year, usually Christmas time, Gran would do a home perm for her, and Mum would regularly put her hair in rollers overnight, so that it fell over her shoulders in soft curls and waves throughout the time until her next perm.

 

My hair, however, was stick-straight, and all I could do with it would be to tie it back in a ponytail or plait, it was too cumbersome to leave loose. Several times Mum tried my hair in rollers, but it just kinked at the ends and the curls dropped quickly.

 

Gran also had permed hair, but hers was tighter,and formed into curls which generally just touched her shoulders. 

 

So, what do I do with my hair? I had thought about a perm some time ago when a few of my school friends had afro perms, but I just sat on my laurels, and left mine, so, do I have a perm now, like Mum and Gran? Certainly I could just imagine the perm giving body and volume to my hair, in much the same way as Mum did hers. There was a little hairdresser a few streets away, no more than 10 minutes walk, and although it looked slightly old fashioned and a little shabby, the notice in the window indicated they specialised in perming, so my mind was made up. I took the number and I called “Lady Katherine’s”. 

 

“Hello, can you perm my hair please.”

 

Yes, they could, they specialised in what she described as traditional perms. I imagined from this to be something like Gran’s, so I said yes. I mean, if they left it longer, surely it would turn out more like Mum’s.

 

Saturday morning arrived, and I arrived, rather excitedly, a few minutes before 11. When I opened the salon door, I found a little waiting area with 4 seats, that opened into the salon itself. Lady Katherine, I presume was at the desk waiting. ” Hello, I’m Christine Roberts, here to have my hair permed.” The woman, who introduced herself as Kath, greeted me, and looking at my long hair, qualified that she would be doing a traditional perm today. Did I realise that she would be cutting a lot of hair off? 

 

I had already got that into my mind, after all, Gran generally cut about 6inches of Mum’s hair when Mum had a perm. I nodded, and was led into the salon proper. There were 3 workstations, and on the back wall, a bank of 4 old fashioned hooded hairdryers, two of which were occupied.

 

Ushering me to a chair, Katherine put a cape round my shoulders, and said that she would be removing the main bulk before washing me in readiness for my perm. I smiled back, and watched her pick up a pair of scissors. She started cutting and within about 7 minutes, 3 foot of hair cascaded down the Cape, leaving me with hair 2 inches long all over. I was stunned speechless at such an extreme cut, and was led to have my hair washed, still wearing an inane smile on my face, as if I couldn’t believe what happened. 

 

After being washed, I was taken back to the chair. My old hair was unceremoniously binned to make room for a small cart that contained several hundred curlers, some small and red, some larger peach ones, similar green ones  but a large quantity of smallish blue ones. By now, I had accepted that my long hair was no more, so I settled myself into the chair, ready to go curly. Kath combed a strip the width of the blue curlers down the middle of my head, and taking a narrow strip at the front, quickly and expertly put the first curler into my hair. “Wow, you’ve pulled that tight.” Kath looked at me, “I do need to get it quite tight if you want a curly perm.” 

 

I grinned back, “no, it’s alright. I’ve never had curlers like this in my hair before, and I’m not used to it.” I explained how Mum had put rollers into just the ends of my hair when she had tried curling it previously. 

 

Within a few minutes, Kath had managed to get curlers in a strip running from the front to the very bottom, and she then created a similar strip at the front at right angles to the first one.

 

As soon as my hair was all in curlers, Kath went over to release the first woman from under her dryer so that her hair could cool. She was placed in the styling chair next to me. This gave me the opportunity to have a good feel and look at my hair in curlers for the first time. I reflected that although Mum didn’t usually wind her curlers right the way up to her scalp, my hair resembled hers when she did. 

 

Kath returned with a plastic bottle, and started to coat each of my curlers with the perm lotion, which was what was contained within. She went back over and applied a second coat immediately after. The perm solution felt icy cold as it first touched my scalp, but soon started itching and heating up as it started working. The lotion gave off a foul smell akin to rotten eggs. Kath led me to my own dryer, at the far end of the run, and advised I would need 20 minutes or so to help the perm get to work.

 

After getting used to my surroundings, I had a chance to reflect on the woman at the other end of the run of dryers. She looked to be about Mum’s age.

 

I glanced across at the workstation, where Kath was carefully removing the other lady’s curlers, letting her hair spring back into the pre-defined rolls. As I watched, Kath pulled a small machine from under the counter and plugged it in. I thought how strange this was, surely Kath wasn’t going to use clippers on this woman’s hair. To my surprise the clippers were switched on, and with her left hand on the top of the woman’s head she slowly edged the clippers up the woman’s neck to a point roughly three quarters of the way down her ears. Again and again the clippers were run up the back of the woman’s neck until the area below the line had been denuded. I thought it strange, but the woman didn’t seem perturbed by this. I glanced at the other woman, who was ensconced in a magazine.

 

My gaze reverted to the styling chair, where Kath was using a shaving brush to soap the woman’s neck, before picking up a straight edged razor to clean her neck completely. Kath wiped her neck clean before she thoroughly lacquered the woman’s hair. 

 

At this point Kath removed me from under my dryer and quickly but thoroughly rinsed the perm solution from my hair. I glanced towards the other lady, who had been checking her hair in the mirror, patting at the bottom of her hair. After wrapping a towel round my hair, the woman was taken to pay. 

 

Before putting neutraliser on my hair, the other lady under the dryers was taken out to allow her hair to cool. Kath returned to me, and emptied another squeezy bottle with the neutraliser in over my hair and I was left while the second chemical worked its magic.

 

Kath then diverted her attention to the other lady. Her curlers were then carefully taken out, and again, with her hand on the top of the lady’s head, the clippers were introduced to her neck. This lady also seemed to take this as being the norm, and within minutes, the shaving brush reappeared. After the woman had had her neck shaved, I was taken to be rinsed, and Kath put loads of setting lotion over my hair, which was still in its curlers, and I was parked back under my dryer. 

 

The second lady was cleaned up, lacquered, and after she paid for her perm, Kath took a break.

 

After thirty minutes, Kath reappeared, and my hair was declared to be dry. I had been thinking how I was liking the experience so far  and could see why Mum always wore permed hair. I was removed from under my dryer, and Kath sat me in the styling chair where her 2 previous customers had been finished off. Uncomfortably, her clippers were still sitting on the workstation in front of me. I was able to have a good feel of my hair while it was cooling on the curlers. Ten minutes later, Kath removed my curlers, and I beamed as I took in the sight of the little rolls that my hair had formed into. Then, the moment that I had feared, but suspected would happen. I felt a hand on top of my head, and as my head was pushed forward, I heard the click and hum as Kath’s clippers were turned on. I went rigid in the chair, and was surprised at the sudden involuntary shudder as the clipper blades kissed my neck. I sat still as my neck was denuded, and then came the shaving brush. Still sitting rigidly, I awaited the razor. I found this part uncomfortable comparatively, and finally the lacquer stung as it hit my freshly shaved neck.

 

I was extremely pleased with the results when I looked in the mirror. OK, it was a lot shorter than I had expected or anticipated. I hadn’t bargained on being shaved, and the curls were quite tight. Saying that, I quite liked the look of the style. When Kath picked up the mirror to show me the back, I gasped when I saw the shaven neck. My hands went straight to it to feel the area, but was more settled when Kath pointed out that my neck was fairly long anyway, and the neckshave accentuated it.

 

Kath advised me that I should put my hair in curlers overnight where possible to maintain the style, NOT to wash my hair for 3 days, or I may wash the perm out. She also gave details of the best curlers to style my hair on, and an appointment card for my next perm in August. 

 

Instead of going straight home, I headed to town to source my new curlers. I didn’t see anyone who really knew me, but I saw several people turn to look at my new outdated hairstyle.

 

When I got home, the first thing I was greeted with was “Chrissie, what have you done to your hair? Why have you had it all cut off and permed?”

 

I looked at Mum, whose hair was still wound in rollers. “I fancied a change Mum, so went for a perm. I hadn’t expected it to be this short though, but I do like it”

 

“Well I don’t know what your Dad will say. What does Frank think?” Frank was the lad I had been seeing since the last weeks at school. He was a year older than me, and my first boyfriend. “Frank doesn’t know yet, it was a bit of an impulse thing. Why wouldn’t Dad not like it, he likes your hair permed.”

 

While Mum was pouring a cup of tea, Dad came in. “Oh Chrissie, you’ve had a perm. It really looks nice. That style suits you.” With a crafty feel of my neck he continued. “It makes your neck look longer.”

 

Mum sat quietly patting at her rollers. “I see you’ve bought some curlers. I will help you put them in tonight.”

 

I spent the afternoon getting ready to go out with Frank. After tea, Frank knocked at the door. “Chrissie, what have you done to all of your lovely long hair?”

I answered “I’ve had a perm Frank. They had to cut it to get the style. Don’t you like it?”

 

Frank didn’t answer, but he was more distant that evening. The next day he called to say that he had really liked my long hair, and didn’t want to see me for a while. On reflection, he had always been more interested in the length of my hair than my feelings.

 

On Monday, I went into work with a bit of trepidation. I was surprised when, as most people commented on the big change of hairstyle, most people just said they liked it and moved on. One girl, about my age actually asked where I had had it done, I think she wanted hers the same.

 

Friday night, after work, I washed my hair  and got Mum to set it on curlers with the setting lotion that I had bought the previous weekend when I had bought my curlers. Mum and Dad were going out that night, so I was left alone with my curlers and the telly. About 8ish, I had just made a cup of tea when a knock came at the door. One of the lads from the company I worked for was there. “I hope you don’t mind, I asked Karen at work for your address. I had heard that you didn’t have a boyfriend anymore. I just wondered if you fancied coming for a drink.”

I noticed that as Gary was saying all this he was staring at my curlers. “Oh Gary, I have just washed my hair (as if he hadn’t noticed). We could go tomorrow. Um, I was just having a cup of tea, if you would like one?”

 

Gary came in and I sat him in the lounge, turning the TV off. I returned with a cup of tea, and some biscuits. I had noticed him around the office, although he didn’t work in the same area as me. He was slightly shy, about the same age as Frank, but always seemed pleasant. Easy on the eye too.

 

We quickly fixed up a date for the next night. I mentally made plans to keep my curlers in overnight and through the next day too, to make sure my hair looked right. “I had noticed you at work when you first started. Your long hair was noticeable.” He said. “I thought you looked really pretty, nice smile, good figure. Your new hair looks great too, makes you look more grown up.”

 

I blushed, and thanked him. “I’m really sorry about my hair. I need to put it in curlers to keep the style.” He smiled, “you don’t need to worry Christine, you’ve had your hair done almost the same way as Mum’s, so I am used to seeing her in curlers.”

 

After about an hour chatting, it seemed very easy, and not as awkward as when I was with Frank, Gary took his leave.

 

The next day went quite quickly. I helped Mum with the shopping in the morning. Mum showed me how to put a scarf over my hair to cover the curlers, although the woman on the till at the Co-op noticed and asked if I had curled my hair. She said that she always wore a scarf over her curlers whenever she set her hair.

 

Seven o’clock came, and I found myself outside the Kings Head. After a nervous pause, I pushed the door. Gary was already there over in the right hand corner. He stood up and called me over. Giving me a kiss on the cheek, he asked what I wanted to drink. He already had a pint of beer in front of him. He brought over a port and lemon. “I hope you hadn’t been waiting too long Gary”, I asked. He had been there about fifteen minutes before me. He didn’t want to be late, and didn’t want to keep me waiting. “Your hair looks nice, by the way.” I thanked him and neglected to mention how I had spent 20 minutes pulling and pushing it before giving it a good coat of nuclear strength hair spray to get it how I wanted that night.

 

At the end of the evening, he asked if he could see me again. “Yes”, what had he in mind? After fixing a date for the cinema on the Wednesday, he walked me home. Kissing him goodnight seemed natural.

 

Wednesday came and went. Gary saw me home again. Would he like to come in for a tea or coffee? He came in and I introduced him to Mum and Dad. Poor Gary seemed very nervous. Before kissing me goodnight, he asked me if I wanted to go for dinner with him on Saturday.

 

Mum and Dad had gone to bed earlier, so it wasn’t until after work the next day that Mum was able to quiz me about Gary. He seems very nice etc. I mentioned that he had asked me to dinner on Saturday. Mum suggested I might want to get my hair done at the hairdressers on Saturday.

 

When I got home Friday, Mum told me that she had called Kath and booked me in for a shampoo and set for the Saturday afternoon.

 

I thanked her, and we rushed through the weekly shop in the morning, and after a quick snack, I presented myself at Lady Katherine’s. “Hi Kath, Mum booked me a shampoo and set.”

Kath ushered me in. She already had two people under her dryers, the smells in the salon indicated that Kath had permed them both.

 

After a thorough wash, Kath sat me in the styling chair, Kath combed a load of setting lotion through my hair. Combing it into sections, she soon started putting my hair in the same blue curlers that she had permed it on. She asked how I had got on with my perm, and I explained how I had gradually got used to it, how to style it and everything.

 

Soon I was curled all over and after soaking my hair with some more setting lotion, Kath parked me in the end dryer. Kath retrieved the woman from the dryer at the other end,and she was left to cool while Kath took a quick break. Again this was a woman of about Mum’s age. Although I never knew her, her face looked vaguely familiar. Kath returned, and after taking the other, older woman from her dryer, she started removing the first woman’s curlers. I had a grandstand view as Kath started styling her hair with her clippers, and then her razor. The woman was soon finished and the second woman was then unrolled and neck shaved also. 

 

After another twenty minutes, I was released from my dryer. Ten minutes later my curlers were removed. I beamed, “that’s nice and tight.” I looked quizzically as I saw the clippers in Kath’s hand. “I just need to tidy your neck Christine.” Although I had gripped the arm of the chair, I couldn’t help shuddering as the clippers were being run up my neck. I kept hold of the arms on the chair as I was lathered and shaved. A quick spray, and I was declared done. “Wow, it looks just like it was when it had been permed.”

 

Dad very kindly dropped me off in town, Gary was waiting outside for me. “Wow, your hair looks nice, have you had it permed again?” Blushing slightly, I explained that I had had a shampoo and set. “They have to shave my neck, because my hair is cut so short there.”

He explained that his Mum had her hair cut in the same way at the back.

 

After our meal, Gary took me to a pub for a drink before he took me home. Before kissing me goodnight he said that his Mum had asked me to tea the next day.

 

Sunday came, and I kept my curlers in until after lunch. Fortunately, my set had held well overnight. I walked slowly to Gary’s house, and knocked on the door. Gary kissed me on the cheek and led me to the lounge. “I thought it might be you when Gary said you had your hair the same as mine.” Gary’s Mum said. I gasped as I recognised the freshly permed woman as the one I had seen at Kath’s yesterday. Gary’s dad emerged. “Hello love, nice to meet you.” From the look on his face, he also approved. I guess it was because their son’s friend had hair like his Mum.