The Model Call

I’ve attached links to before and after photos at the bottom 🙂

 

I have been cutting hair for close to 10 years. I was originally trained as a barber. 6 months at a polytechnic and then I was at a local barbershop. It was a busy spot, located in Moorgate, next to plenty of offices. Lunchtime was a constant rush of businessmen, looking for something sharp and fast, before rushing back to work. The fundamentals I had learnt at school became muscle memory after just a few months working there. We had a big team and it was a proper ‘work hard, play hard’ environment, seeing 20 clients in a day wasn’t uncommon, and beers after work, as you reclined in your chair, were almost mandatory.

 

I had been there just over 3 years when covid hit. You know the drill; lockdown, store closed, I won’t bore you with the details. It was however during this period that I made a slight career pivot. My old work wouldn’t open again for over a year and when it did it was with a much smaller workforce. During lockdown I had begun giving girlfriends of mine trims. I decided to go back to polytechnic and took a basic hairdressing course. I found it exhilarating. Barbering came easy to me. Hairdressing was more of a challenge, but a welcome one. Where barbering at times felt one dimensional, in hairdressing the possibilities seemed endless. 

 

I exited covid with my basic hairdressing diploma and began working 3 days a week as a trainee at an upmarket salon in Fitzrovia. I filled the rest of my week having a casual contract at a barbers on the same street that I lived on. I felt as though I had found the sweet spot. Steady work as a barber mixed with learning new skills at the salon. After 18 months I was an accredited hair stylist. I moved over fulltime to the salon. I wasn’t sure if I could ever go back to barbering, the pay was almost double as a junior stylist. I stayed at the salon almost a further 3 years when my girlfriend was accepted to a sustainable design masters program up in Edinburgh. It was an 18-month course, and rather than do long distance, we decided to move there together at the end of summer so she could take up the place.

 

That almost brings us up to date. As of writing, I’ve been in Edinburgh for almost 3 months. It was just last week that I experienced something so unexpected and memorable that I feel compelled to write about it. 

 

–

 

When we arrived to Edinburgh both Natalie (my girlfriend) and I were in search of jobs. I was attracted to the very first salon I interviewed at. Cutwork Studio is located just off George Street, underneath the towering Edinburgh Castle. 

 

I was unsure what to expect as I walked down the cobbled street it was located on but once I got inside I was pleasantly surprised. The salon sat just above street level in one of the old converted townhouses that made up most of the block. A short set of stone steps led up from the pavement to the entrance. From the front windows of the space you could look directly out onto the steady movement of the city, office workers, taxis, delivery vans bouncing over the cobbles, though inside it was much quieter.

The space had probably once been the main living room of the house. It was long and relatively narrow, with high ceilings, white walls, and pale oak floors that softened the room and kept it from feeling too clinical. The building itself was old Georgian Edinburgh, but the salon had been renovated carefully. A large modern skylight had been added overhead, bringing in soft natural light during the day, but I soon realised I much preferred when it rained, which it often did in Edinburgh, when you could hear it clearly on the glass above and almost feel the downpours from inside the salon.

The layout was simple and minimal. Four black salon chairs sat in pairs along each wall, facing oversized mirrors that leaned casually against the plaster rather than being mounted. There was very little decoration beyond that. The mirrors, chairs, and lighting did most of the work. Near the entrance sat a small reception setup, more a high table with a stool and a laptop than a formal desk. Beside it was another door leading to a small bathroom and storage area. At the back of the salon, a few shallow steps led down to the basin area. Two black wash basins sat in front of the large rear windows, which looked out onto a surprisingly quiet lane behind the building. 

The place is run by a couple Angus and Lorna, but it was Angus alone who I met that day. Immediately we hit it off. Despite him being 10 years my senior we instantly clicked. He offered me the job on the spot (I had a lovely reference from my previous boss) and I accepted immediately. I think he was happy to have another guy in the shop, before I joined it was him and 4 women. 

I guess I’ll take this as an opportunity to introduce you to the whole team. Angus is the founder and head stylist, almost 40, with greying hair and a short, slightly untidy beard. He runs the salon with a calm authority and undeniable talent. Lorna, his partner and co-owner, is head colourist, a few years younger, with bright red hair and a sharper energy, the one who really drives the colour side of the business and keeps everything looking modern.

Then there’s Fi, part-time senior stylist, mid-40s, very experienced and confident, working mostly around school hours and handling a loyal set of regular clients. Sophie is Lorna’s trainee, 24 and focuses on colour work and slowly building her confidence with supervised cuts and technical work. Mia is the youngest, 19, and works part time handling reception, cleaning, and running our social media. 

I was able to fill the gap of another full-time stylist. Angus was keen to have another person with strong skills on men’s haircuts as that was a growing customer segment. I started only a few days after the interview and settled in well, bonding with the team and building a customer base. 

Natalie meanwhile had started part time work at a local cafe. It’s a popular spot for university students, with a lively, youthful atmosphere. The staff were mostly young people and through work she had a strong social circle before classes even started at the end of September. 

I had somewhat misunderstood how well known the salon actually was. It only really came up one night when I was out for drinks with Natalie and two of her friends from work, Maya and Rachel. We were in a pub not far from her café, a spot loud enough that you had to lean in slightly when someone spoke. 

At some point Rachel asked where I was working. I said Cutwork Studio and expected nothing in return, just the usual polite nod people give when they don’t really know or care. Instead she stopped me a bit.

“Oh, I know that place,” she said.

Rachel was mid-20s, with long dark brown hair that had a slight natural wave to it, heavy bangs sitting just above her eyebrows, and glasses she kept pushing back up her nose. She had moved up from Bristol a few years previously and was dressed in scuffed black boots and an oversized leather jacket.

I remember just asking her how she knew it, expecting maybe she’d walked past it or seen it online. But she said she’d heard of it through a friend, and then started talking about it like it was a place with a reputation, not just another salon on a street in Edinburgh.

–

A few weeks later we had our monthly meeting. Meeting was a loose term, it was held on a Thursday evening, Lorna served gin and tonics as we discussed the salon and anything in particular we wanted to focus on for the upcoming month. It was mostly a relaxed conversation, drifting between bookings, supply orders, and whoever was overbooked or under pressure that week. Mia was the one who brought up socials, saying she wanted to put out another model call post.

I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant in practice, so I just listened as the others reacted like it was a normal part of the routine.

Angus picked up on my expression and explained it fairly simply. A few times a year they put out a call on Instagram for hair models. They looked for people willing to come in for a transformation. They hosted these sessions after store hours, Mia would be there filming and taking photos, turning it into content for the salon’s page.

He said it was something they’d done for a while now, mainly for colour work or bigger restyle cuts. It helped keep the socials active, but also gave the stylists room to do something a bit more creative than the usual day-to-day appointments.

“If we find someone willing to go for something short,” He nodded slowly as he spoke to me. “I think we’ll try and push them onto you, see if we can get a nice transformation. Considering your skill set.” 

It was true, with my barbering background, I found short cuts on women came naturally to me. Any of the pixie clients where I had worked had been automatically assigned to me. So far however it was all maintenance cuts, I had never done something considered a ‘transformation’. 

Mia put the model call up on Instagram the next day. It was fairly simple, just a few clean before-and-after shots from previous transformations, a short caption about looking for models, and a line about “exciting creative changes and colour work carried out by our team.” Within a couple of hours it had already picked up a handful of likes and a few tentative comments. 

–

Around the same time, Natalie and Rachel had started seeing a lot more of each other. They got on well and I ended up tagging along on a couple of nights out where it was the three of us drifting between pubs. 

It was one of those nights Rachel mentioned the post. 

“So how does that work exactly?” she asked. 

The 3 of us were sipping pints. It was a Sunday evening. 

“It’s basically just people volunteering to come into the salon after hours. Usually it’s for colour, like balayage or some bright sorta colour or for more creative restyles if someone wants a noticeable change. Sometimes we use it for training as well, especially with Sophie learning.”

Rachel nodded thoughtfully. I remember taking in her hair. It was full bodied and reached about halfway down her body. 

“And you personally, are you also looking for models?” 

“I am yeah.” I took a sip of my stout. “Mostly for me it’ll be short haircuts we’re thinking. If we find someone wanting a proper change you know.” 

“I might be interested in that case.” She fingered the tips of her hair. “I’ve actually grown this out from a bob.”

Natalie gave a surprised look. The bob must have been a while ago considering the length it was at now. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Rachel continued. “I normally had it around my shoulders, like all through school, and I’ve just tried to grow it out the last few years, just for something different.”

“Well Alex is really good.” Natalie enthusiastically chimed in, motioning towards me. “He does my hair.”

She glanced down at her shoulder grazing blonde hair that I had cut for almost the entirety of our 4 year relationship. 

“Well,” I interrupted. “I would be looking for something a bit shorter than that. More like a pixie cut, something super short actually.” 

I watched Rachel open her mouth slightly and her eyes flicker around. 

A strange excited charge of energy was rising up inside me. I hadn’t really considered the modelling opportunity in much detail up until that point, sort of assuming it would just be someone who already had shorter hair looking to go a bit shorter. But hearing Rachel talk about her hair like that, the idea of someone with that much length actually coming in and having it all cut off suddenly felt exciting.

Rachel gave a small smile, not quite committing to anything.

“I might be interested. But I’ll think about it.” she said, half shrugging, like she was still weighing it up in her head.

I was shocked by her answer and the casualness with which she said it. I’ll think about it? Had I really just heard that right.

I nodded, keeping it light. “Yeah, no pressure. If you are keen, just message the salon on Instagram. Mia checks it all, she’ll sort it from there.”

–

A few days later, Mia caught me as I was finishing up a cut and asked if I knew a Rachel.

I paused for a second. “Yeah,” I said. “Why?”

She nodded like she’d been expecting that. “She’s messaged the salon Instagram. Said you’d spoken about doing a short haircut and she’s interested in setting something up.”

For a moment I just looked at her, trying to process it properly. It felt slightly unreal hearing it like that, turned into something concrete and official.

“Oh,” I said, a bit slower than I meant to. “Right… yeah.”

Mia was still waiting, phone in hand. “So should I book her in? I’ll check her availability.”

I hesitated again, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do it.”

At the end of the day Mia again approached me. 

“Tomorrow evening? She can come at 8 right as we close.”

“Sure thing.” 

The moment I was home I told Natalie. She was just as surprised as I was. They hadn’t overlapped at work the last few days but they would tomorrow. 

“She has really nice hair.” Natalie remarked. “I’m surprised she wants something short. Do you have an idea what sort of cut you might try and suggest to her?” 

I actually had been giving it some thought. 

“I really like her bangs,” I started. “and figured that could become the focal point of the cut, sort of leaving those heavy and then having the rest a bit more cropped.” 

Natalie nodded but her face made it seem like she was unsure.

“But we’ll have a big consultation tomorrow and can see from there.” 

–

 The next day was a Thursday. I woke up just before 8, Natalie had already left for work. My first appointment was at 10.15 and I arrived 20 minutes before that, takeaway americano in hand. 

Richard was my first client. Early 30s and working as an architect, he mostly spent the appointment filling me in on his trip to South America he had just finished. I had a walk in next, a middle aged Korean woman, here on holiday, needing a slight trim on her bob. It wasn’t until a short gap in clients when I took lunch and checked my phone that I put some more thought into Rachel.  

she’s pretty nervous – The message from Natalie read. 

We can always do smthing else, if she doesn’t want a pixie or something that short – I replied

idk she seems keen to go thru w it, just nervous at same time – She wrote back

I might come w her if thats fine – She followed up with 

Yea ofc – I texted quickly

I pushed my phone back into my pocket as my next client Miles, a tall male model, walked through the door. 

As I trimmed his hair I considered that I didn’t really know much about Rachel. Was she adventurous? Was cutting her hair off out of character? Would she actually go through with this? I really had no idea. Inside I could feel this growing sense of excitement. It was a hairdresser’s dream and it seemed to be unfolding right in front of me. Still I tried not to get ahead of myself. I clearly remembered saying the word ‘pixie’ to her at the pub. Had she forgotten? 

My final client was Leigh who left just after 7. Mia, Angus and I were the only staff left in the shop. Mia and I briefly discussed what the set up would be like. Essentially Rachel would just be treated as a normal client, only Mia would take photos before and after, and some during alongside a few short videos. Angus was quite surprised I was able to get a model so soon and even more surprised when I motioned to my ribcage when he asked how long Rachel’s hair was. He decided he would stick around to watch. 

Angus was still finishing with his last client while Mia and I lingered around the salon waiting for Rachel to arrive. The atmosphere had changed slightly now that the day was ending. Outside the street had darkened into that cold blue Edinburgh evening light. A few minutes later Angus walked his client to reception, took payment, and saw her out onto the street.

Mia looked over at me.

“You should probably set up your station,” she said. “I’ll get some b-roll before she gets here.”

I nodded and moved over to my chair. There was something strangely performative about laying everything out knowing it was about to be filmed. I rolled my trolley over beside the station and started arranging things carefully across the top shelf. Scissors first, then my combs and sectioning clips. Last came my cordless clippers and trimmer, which I rested side by side near the front.

Angus grabbed his coat from the back room.

“I’m gonna quickly grab some beers,” he said casually. “Anyone want anything specific?”

Neither of us cared and a minute later he disappeared out onto the street.

The second the door shut behind him I became aware of this nervous energy running through me. Up until now the whole thing had felt hypothetical but standing there looking at the tools laid out in front of me, waiting for Rachel to walk through the door, I could suddenly feel the weight of it properly settling in.

Mia wandered over beside me, still holding her phone loosely in one hand as she looked down at the station I’d set up.

“So,” she said. “Do you actually know what you’re gonna do yet?”

“A rough idea,” I replied.

I unlocked my phone and pulled up a few screenshots I’d saved earlier that afternoon. Mostly variations of the same cut. Strong heavy fringe left longer through the front, with the back and sides cropped in tightly around it. Some softer, some more editorial.

Mia leaned slightly closer as I flicked through them.

“Oh wow,” she laughed quietly. “That’s seriously short.”

I locked my phone again and slipped it back into my pocket.

The door pushed open and I felt my heart leap, only to see Angus return with a box of beer cans. 

“Look who I found” He said motioning to the door as I watched Natalie followed by Rachel enter the room. My heart leaped for real now.

The next minute or so disappeared into hugs and introductions between Natalie, Rachel, Mia and Angus, while I stood there feeling oddly disconnected from everything happening around me. Eventually I clapped my hands together lightly, almost as a way of waking myself up.

“Want to come take a seat and we can discuss what we’ll be doing tonight?” I said. 

Rachel nodded and we walked to my chair, the closed one on the left side. She lowered herself down on the leather. I took in the woman sitting in front of me. Those same black boots from previously, jeans and a plain white top. Her hair sprawled down her back. Not quite chestnut but not quite chocolate brown in colour, it fell with slight waves. 

The others were sitting on the couch, chatting quietly. I opened my mouth to speak with Rachel and for a moment nothing came out. Surely she wasn’t actually planning on having all this hair cut off. 

“So,” I began and gently lifted a small section of her hair. “We talked about doing a pixie length haircut right?” 

A slight smile crept on her face. She briefly shut her eyes and slowly began nodding. 

“We did, yes.” 

I tried my best to suppress any showing of surprise. 

“And you’re happy to go with that?” 

“I am, yes.” She softly bit her bottom lip. 

“Ever had it that short before?” I asked. My foot began tapping on the floor with anticipation. This really was happening. 

“No, only to my shoulders I guess.” She motioned to her collarbone. “But funnily enough I was going to get something very short, like a pixie, back right as I finished school. And then… I don’t know, I ended up just getting a fringe and then after that actually just let it grow all the way out.”  

“So you’re ready this time?” 

“I am. Pretty nervous.” She chuckled and clutched her hands together. “But it’s kind of been in the back of my mind for a while. And then the other night, it just felt like a bit of a sign.” 

It almost felt too good to be true. Somehow this perfect situation had been conjured right before me. I was eager to get started. 

“Let me show you some ideas I have” 

I opened my phone and scrolled through the images I’d saved, showing her a few different variations of the same idea. Some were more structured, almost bowl-like in shape, with a heavy fringe and the sides and back taken much shorter and tighter, others slightly softer and more textured but still sitting firmly in that very short, almost cropped territory. I expected at least some kind of hesitation or change in expression as she looked through them, but instead she just kept nodding slowly, studying each one properly, like she was actually trying to picture herself in them.

“Does that all sound good?” I asked, still expecting some sort of rebuke. 

“Sounds good.” 

She rose from the chair and Mia led her off to the side. She posed with her hair streaming down her front, then from behind and then from the side. 

“She seems ready?” Natalie asked me from the couch.  

I nodded back. 

Angus was reclining back with his beer. 

“Curious to see how this goes.” He remarked. 

The photoshoot was complete and I led Rachel down the stairs to a basin. 

Rachel lowered herself back at the basin and tilted her head into the bowl. I adjusted the position slightly before turning on the tap, letting the water run warm before guiding it through her hair. It took a moment for all of it to fully soak through, the dark length spreading and filling the basin. As I worked the water in properly I noticed just how dense her hair actually was. It wasn’t just long, but thick too. For a second I wondered if we’d ever had someone in here with this much hair going this short in one sitting. 

I massaged the shampoo through from roots to ends, watching the foam build as I worked it in. While I did, I found myself thinking about what people in her life would say when they saw her after the cut. Friends, colleagues, whoever was used to seeing her with hair like this.

My mind drifted briefly to the kind of videos I’d seen online, those transformation clips that would circulate with hundreds of comments underneath, half of them amazed and half of them almost in disbelief. Why would she cut all that off? Don’t touch that hair. That kind of reaction. I could already imagine Mia turning this into something similar once it was edited and posted.

Perhaps more than anything, I reminded myself I needed to do this properly.

I rinsed the shampoo out carefully, running my fingers through to make sure it was fully clean before squeezing out the excess water. I patted it down with a towel, then wrapped it up securely on top of her head. Another smaller towel went around her shoulders. 

Once she was ready, I stepped back slightly and motioned for her to return to the chair.

Rachel walked back over to the chair and lowered herself down again, and I followed a few steps behind her. I noticed Angus and Natalie both watching more closely now, their attention fixed on what was about to happen. Natalie’s expression was hard to read, somewhere between curiosity and disbelief, while Angus looked more openly engaged, I figured he was probably excited.

I found myself briefly wondering what they were thinking, and whether having them all sat there watching would make Rachel more nervous or more committed. Mia stood slightly off to the side, phone already in hand, ready to start filming the moment things began.

I picked up a white cape and stepped in front of Rachel, letting it fall out as I swung it around her shoulders. I fastened it at the back of her neck and gave it a small adjustment so it sat cleanly across her body. Then I reached up and removed the smaller towel from around her shoulders.

Next came a cutting collar, black and rubber, which I gently placed snugly around her neck, making sure it sat properly against the cape.

Finally, I reached up and unwrapped the towel from her head. The long dark length falling back against the chair in a damp, heavy sheet.

I took a small step back from the chair giving myself a second to properly compose myself. The room felt unusually still behind me. Mia holding position with her phone. Angus and Natalie watching. Rachel sitting completely motionless in the chair. For a moment I had these brief flashes of what it would look like not long from now. Hair scattered across the floor, Rachel sitting there looking completely different. 

I shook the thought off slightly and stepped back in.

I picked up my comb from the trolley and ran it gently through the wet hair to start sectioning it properly. Now soaked, it hung heavier than before, sitting around the middle of her back. 

I picked up my sectioning clips and started working through her hair, sectioning away and then lifting the top section first and clipping it cleanly out of the way. I then separated each side, taking them up and securing them.

With the back, I worked more methodically, taking horizontal sections and clipping them up in stages until only a lower band remained. It sat ear to ear, a few inches in height, following the natural curve of the nape.

I paused for a moment before doing anything else, comb still in hand. It was the point where preparation ended and the cut actually began. I ran the comb through the section a few times, smoothing it down properly, then asked Rachel to tip her head forward slightly. She complied without hesitation.

I took a seat on my stool and reached over to my trolley, picking up my scissors. In the mirror I could see Rachel’s eyes tracking the movement, following the blades as I brought them up into position. Out of the corner of my vision I was aware of Mia standing slightly to the side, phone raised and already recording. 

Gently I tipped Rachel’s head forward a little more and ran the comb back through the section, lifting out a clean horizontal panel and holding it firmly between my fingers. 

I brought my scissors up.

Snip snip snip 

Three deliberate snips followed in quick succession, and the length came away cleanly between my fingers, dropping heavily to the wooden floor below.

I moved back into the same panel, taking a second section just to the right and holding it between my fingers at the same length. 

Snip snip snip

It fell cleanly to the floor beside the first section.

I repeated the same on the left side of my initial cut, working with the same controlled motion, removing the length in one clean pass.

By the time I was done, the entire first panel was reduced to a tight line, barely a centimetre long, if that. The floor around the chair was already beginning to collect thick, wet sections of hair, each one easily thirty centimetres or more in length, spread out against the wood. 

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Mia immediately crouch down slightly, angling her phone towards the floor to capture the thick sections of dark hair lying around the base of the chair.

In the mirror I caught Rachel’s expression tighten for a brief second, a small wince she seemed unable to fully suppress.

“You okay?” I asked quietly.

“Mhm,” she murmured back after a moment.

I lowered another horizontal panel from above, combing the damp hair carefully down over the freshly cut guide underneath. Again I took a large section between my fingers, holding it low and tight, my knuckles almost brushing against her scalp as I established the line.

Then I began cutting again, the scissors working steadily across the section as another heavy length came free and dropped down onto the cape and floor below.

I continued across the rest of the panel in the same steady rhythm, lowering each section onto the guide beneath it and cutting away the length piece by piece. Thick wet sections kept dropping heavily around the chair, some falling straight to the floor while others landed briefly across the white cape before sliding away.

One heavier chunk caught against the rubber collar near Rachel’s shoulder instead of falling cleanly. For a moment it stayed there, dark against the white cape, before I brushed it away gently with the back of my hand and watched it tumble down to join the rest on the floor.

“Is it starting to feel real yet?” Mia asked lightly.

Rachel gave a small shake of her head, still watching herself in the mirror. “Not yet.”

From the couch, Angus leaned forward slightly, beer resting loosely in his hand.

“Can you feel it dropping off?” he asked

Rachel paused for a second before answering. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “It’s kind of a strange feeling”

Angus gave a small nod, almost amused. “There’s still a lot more to come off yet.”

I glanced up briefly. “Yep.” I agreed, already moving back in.

I lowered the final back section, combing it down cleanly over the remaining guide. There was a clear line now forming through the back, the structure of the cut starting to show properly. I took the section between my fingers again, holding it steady, and worked through it with the same controlled motion as before, snipping away the length that sat between my fingers.

The back section was now complete. From her nape up to the top of her occipital bone her hair was cropped tight to the skull, slightly shorter at the nape and gently blending into more length. This would then blend into more soft length on the top of her head. 

I wheeled myself to her left side and removed the clip holding up the section. These side sections were noticeably smaller than the back section and I took a moment to comb it through properly and settle it into place.

I switched into a more barbering approach, turning the comb upside down and began lifting the hair up in small sections around her ear, letting it sit neatly in the teeth before cutting away whatever extended beyond it. It was a technique I’d used countless times before, and it quickly removed the length out of the entire side, moving through it efficiently without needing to overthink each cut. 

As I worked through the left side, more of the cut length began to fall away. Strands and thicker pieces slid down the side of the cape, some falling cleanly to the floor while others caught briefly on the fabric before slowly working their way down. A few tendrils slid forward instead, sliding across the front of the cape and settling on her lap. I watched as Rachel slightly moved the cape from underneath, sending the strands down the front of the cape to the floor. 

I continued working through the left side, repeating the same scissor-over-comb technique in small, controlled passes. Each lift of the comb took a little more weight away, refining the shape so it sat shorter and tighter at the bottom, gradually softening as it moved upward into the longer top section. Once I was satisfied with the balance on that side, I gave it a final check in the mirror and then wheeled myself across to the right. 

I unclipped the remaining section and let it fall, combing it down so it sat cleanly against her head before starting again. Turning the comb upside down, I began lifting sections up around her ear in the same way, letting the teeth catch the hair and cutting away anything that extended beyond it. More hair rained down the side of the cape. 

“Really short.” Rachel remarked. 

I didn’t respond straight away, staying focused on the movement of the comb and scissors. Internally, though, I registered that this was the first time she was actually properly seeing the cut in the mirror, the back had been hidden, but this was the first time the change would be visually obvious to her. 

“It’ll all blend into more length on the top.” I assured her. 

I finished refining the right side and finally stepped back from the chair for a second to take the cut in properly. Already Rachel looked dramatically different, even with the entire top section still clipped away from her face. 

I began working back through the shape with scissor over comb again, softening the transition between the sides and the back section. Small adjustments mostly, checking for any heavier spots and making sure everything blended evenly together as it wrapped around her head.

Once I was satisfied, I placed my scissors down on the trolley and picked up my black Babyliss clippers. The soft click as they powered on seemed to change the atmosphere slightly.

In the mirror I noticed Rachel close her eyes briefly for a second, and I found myself thinking this was probably a completely new sensation for her. Someone with hair this long likely had never even had clippers near her head before.

I moved behind her and began working carefully at the very bottom of the neckline, using clipper over comb to tighten and clean the shape without taking it too harshly short. The clippers hummed steadily in my hand as I flicked them lightly against the comb.

Unlike the heavier wet sections from earlier, this time only a soft dusting of tiny dark hairs drifted down, collecting across her shoulders, the white cape, and the black rubber collar around her neck.

I switched the clippers off and set them back down before reaching for my trimmer. The smaller tool fit neatly into my palm and I used it to carefully clean around the nape first, tightening the outline slightly before moving around her ears in small, controlled motions.

Rachel watched me through the mirror as I worked.

“Never thought I’d be having my head shaved,” she said with a nervous laugh.

I chuckled softly back at her. “You’re being very brave.”

From beside us Mia lowered her phone slightly. “Honestly, I was expecting tears or something by now.”

Rachel laughed again, though there was still nerves sitting underneath it. “Those could still come,” she replied.

I finished detailing around the second ear and stepped back once more to assess everything. The back and sides now sat cropped close and clean against her head, dramatically shorter than they had been less than half an hour earlier.

Satisfied with the foundation, I reached up and began removing the clips holding the top section in place one by one. The remaining length immediately fell loose around her head. I picked up my comb and carefully worked everything down into its natural fall, guiding the damp hair forward and outward so it draped over the newly shortened sides and back.

With the top section now combed fully down, I picked my scissors back up and began removing the remaining length. The technique itself was surprisingly simple. Starting on her right side, I placed the blades against the side of her head and began cutting a clean line directly across. Thick hunks of hair dropped to the ground. 

There was something blunt about the approach, no overthinking, no intricate layering. It felt a bit gung-ho compared to more technical sectioning work, but at the same time it suited me and this is how I tend to work when I’m confident in what I’m doing.

I moved around her head, scissors directly against her head, carving out the short almost bowl-like shape out of the remaining long hair. The only noise in the salon was the sharp snip of the scissor followed by a soft wet, rustle noise as the hair slid down the cape before a damp slap as it hit the floor. 

In less than a minute I had reached her left side, the final strands of long hair removed without ceremony. Even though I just done a rough cut, the shape of the final cut was clear. Rachel realised this too and slowly turned her head side to side. She swallowed and our eyes met in the mirror. She gave a small smirk. 

“Feel’s a bit lighter?” A ventured. 

She nodded. 

I unclipped the fringe area. For a moment I just assessed it in silence, taking in the balance between the tight sides and the heavier top section that still carried most of the length.

I then began slowly refining the top section, trimming away small, careful amounts to soften any unevenness and adjust the way it sat as it curved around her head. I then moved into the fringe area. I combed it down into place and made only the smallest adjustments, taking just a little off the ends to sharpen the line. The cut was all but complete now. It was close to a bowl-cut but softer without the harsh contrast sometimes associated with them. 

I reached for the hairdryer and switched it on, letting the airflow settle before moving in. I worked through the cut in sections, drying it properly so the shape sat the way it was meant to. As the air moved through, the small remnants of cut hair around her neck and shoulders lifted and drifted down, falling from the cape and onto the floor.

Once it was fully dry, I gave the cape a quick shake to loosen anything that had collected on it, then flicked off a few remaining strands from her shoulders and collar.

I picked my scissors up again for a final pass, moving in with small, precise point-cutting to soften the ends and refine the texture now that the hair was dry. Just minor adjustments, evening everything out and checking the balance one last time.

After a final look in the mirror, I stepped back.

“That’s it,” I said to Rachel.

I reached forward and unclipped the cape, letting it fall away from her shoulders.

Rachel turned her head slowly at first, as if still adjusting to the feeling, then lifted her hands and gently touched the short crop for the first time. Her fingers moved carefully through it, testing the length, and you could see the surprise in her expression as she processed just how different it felt.

Rachel slowly pushed herself up from the chair, almost cautiously, like she wasn’t fully used to carrying herself with so little hair yet. For a second she seemed unsure of her footing, then glanced down towards the floor surrounding the chair.

Her hair was everywhere.

 

Dark wet lengths spread across the pale wood in thick clusters and strands, some still curled from where they had landed. I had to admit, I didn’t think I’d ever seen so much hair covering the floor from a single haircut before.

Mia quickly moved in beside the chair, lifting her phone high above her head to capture an overhead shot of the scene before anyone could start cleaning it up. Then she guided Rachel back off to the side again for the after photos and videos.

I watched Rachel run her hands carefully through the short crop while Mia filmed from different angles, still looking slightly stunned by it all.

On the couch, Natalie exhaled quietly.

“At times that was honestly hard to watch,” she admitted. “I actually started feeling a bit sick.”

I laughed softly, though part of me understood exactly what she meant.

Angus stood up, beer still in hand, and looked over towards me.

“You did great,” he said simply. “Seriously.”

A few minutes later Rachel wandered back over towards us, still absentmindedly touching the short hair around her ears and neck as she walked.

“So,” I asked. “How do you like it?”

She looked at herself once more in the mirror before answering.

“It’s a massive change,” she admitted with a small laugh. “But… I do really like it.”

Even saying it, she still sounded slightly shocked. Natalie stood and grabbed her coat.

“We’re gonna go get a drink across the road,” she said. “You coming?”

“I’ll join you shortly,” I replied, glancing down at the state of the floor around my chair.

The two of them headed out together, Rachel pulling the collar of her jacket up slightly as she passed the front windows, her new crop suddenly making her look completely different even from behind.

Once the door shut behind them, I grabbed the broom from beside reception and started sweeping together the huge mound of dark hair surrounding the chair.The pile was honestly ridiculous.As I worked, Angus wandered over and gave me a firm clap on the back.

“I still can’t believe you found someone willing to do that,” he said with a laugh, looking down at the floor. “That’s some transformation.”

I shook my head slightly as I pushed another thick section of hair across the floor. Truthfully, I had no idea how it had happened either.

 

Hope you enjoyed!

Before: https://pin.it/2nasiCKnx

After: https://pin.it/6q97K9zsZ