It is one of the most oft-used industries in the world, and yet very little commentary is given to its product. Its employees go to specialized school for a significant length of time, yet the common man couldn’t name a single such school. It is a billion-dollar enterprise, one that has the ability to cause us great sorrow and pain, one that captures the imagination of young females for hours on end, one that has given countless office workers an excuse not to have a serious conversation. Of course, I am speaking of the hair styling industry. It’s amazing how often we have to get our hair cut, but so very little is known about the ins and outs of this profession. Let’s take a closer look at the hair manipulation enterprise, and allow me to provide the male point of view when necessary.
LOCATION
As varied as can possibly be, hair styling companies run the gambit of variety. Some are small boutique shops, offering just a handful of stylists, while others are much larger, with a bevy of assorted professionals. Women can spend months attempting to find the perfect location to get their hair done, but this is not a problem that most men have. You see, in our constant attempt to boil things down to the most common denominator, it is quite simple to observe that all shops, no matter the size, prestige, or floor cleanliness, have one basic thing in common: scissors. As such, we tend to spend considerably less time worrying about finding the “perfect” hair place, and much more time finding the “closest” or “cheapest” or “one my buddy goes to” place. All places have chairs. All places have mirrors. All places have cutting equipment. Everything else is extraneous.
DIRECTION
Once a location has been chosen and a stylist identified, the next most important step is the customer educating the stylist on what exactly should be done with the hair. For females, this can often take longer than the procedure itself, as very specific, often illustrated details must be vocalized. These instructions tend not to come in the form of hair styles, but more in the form of celebrities, sounding something like “a cross between Demi Moore and that other girl on Felicity.” Surprisingly, the instructions are understood perfectly. For guys, the whole idea of direction is a bit absurd. When I go to the doctor, I don’t tell him what x-rays need to be taken, what equipment to use, or what other doctors to consult. He is the medical expert, and my expectation is that he will provide the proper advice given that he has years of experience in such a manner. Guys expect the same thing from their hair stylist. We don’t know how to tell you what we want, we want you to tell us what will make us look nice. It’s why we always prefer female stylists. The thought is that, if she thinks it looks good, all women will think it looks good. However, because the stylists insist on forcing us to vocalize what we want, we are forced to resort to the same instruction every time, “Short.”
EXECUTION
Undeniably, the biggest difference between a male getting his haircut and a female getting her haircut is the interaction between the stylist and the customer. For females, the stylist is seen as a combination of companion and psychiatrist, one to whom all secrets can be shared. I have learned more about the female mind just from sitting in the general vicinity of a woman getting her hair done. It’s remarkable. For men, this pattern of behavior is seen as unnecessary and uncomfortable. We don’t know this strange person carrying scissors, and thus we see no need to interact with him/her. Our expectation is that the stylist do the job, do it well, and do it in the least amount of time possible. If anything, conversation can lead to distraction, which could lead to an unfortunate razor disaster, one which will cause us great shame. Frankly, we’d rather not take that chance. Cut it. Cut it well. Cut it fast. If you’d like to talk, there’s a depressed woman waiting next in line.
CONCLUSION
I had my hair cut this past weekend. The whole procedure, from the time I entered the professional salon (Supercuts) to the time I exited took exactly twelve minutes. It was glorious. I walked in, sat down, she cut, and it was done. Truth be told, it was a beautiful exercise in neck orchestration and silent scissors-to-hair chemistry. Not a single word was spoken. Next time I go, I just might let that lady clean my teeth. Two birds with one stone. Men, who’s with me?
Jim, I’m with you. I cut my own hair, personally, and I don’t say a word to myself while I do it.
Thanks for siharng. What a pleasure to read!