I could get used to all this pampering
A haircut and then some
I have a theory that there are two kinds of men when it comes to being fussed over in a salon environment: Those who are able to simply enjoy it, and those of us who squirm at the very thought of a stranger’s hands pawing at us — possibly because of boyhood conditioning that says it’s unmanly to take pleasure in hygienic rituals.
The whole routine of being waited on hand and foot, meanwhile, can offend one’s egalitarian outlook.
Belonging firmly to the category of people who pooh-pooh pampering, I winced when stylist Heather Wilson encouraged me into the shampoo chair to get cracking on my 30-minute grooming tune-up at the Toronto location of John Allan’s. “There’s a lot more to come,” she said, which was precisely what I feared.
Fingers on the mind
There are many parts to a standard John Allan’s appointment, some of which have felt like torture to me in the past. Scalp massages, for example. I can’t be the only person who finds it icky, and headache-inducing to boot, when a person presses her
fingers hard into your temples.
Throwing in the towel
So far, so bad. But as we went along, the experience improved. The hot towel treatment nicely steamed away the grimy residue of humid Toronto July afternoon, leaving my face red and feeling clean.
Cutting conversation
When I settled into the chair for my haircut, Wilson and her colleagues proved to be pleasant conversation partners. Some customers, she says, clam up and build an invisible wall around themselves when they come in for an appointment. They yearn for a bit of quiet time. But Wilson is also ready for someone like me, who can be chatty around strangers (I am a journalist after all).
Brewing up business
Best of all: They bring you a nice, cold beer to enjoy while you’re having your hair cut and your hands manicured. After a while, I got comfortable and began to understand why men would buy a membership at John Allan’s. At the very least it’s nice to have an excuse to get away from it all. As the cliché goes, I could get used to this.