Embracing the grey after a year of lockdown locks

THE mini-High Street just down the road from where we live is one of those that has had a tough few years. A short hop from the city centre, most of the shops found it hard to survive, and even many of the student bars have seen better days. In the last year or so, things have been picking up, with a few new businesses appearing. There’s a yoga centre, a meditation hub, a children’s play centre, two new cafes and a delicatessen. They complement a couple of coffee shops (you know the names), three or four pubs (two good ones) and a couple of new bars.

There are also several barbers. I’m not sure when they started appearing, but now in the space of 400 metres there must be six or seven of them. I’m also not sure if there has been a surge in demand for gentlemen’s barbering in the last few years and have often wondered if there were enough blokes around to keep all these new shops busy. Last Monday morning gave me the answer. As I walked home from the gym, I first thought an ‘incident’ of some kind had taken place because of the number of people on the pavement. As I kept walking, I realised the only incident going on was the opening of the barber shops. Every single one of them had a long queue outside, some I’d guess with at least 20 people in them. Apparently, it’s been manic all week. I saw the chap who normally cuts my hair this morning and he told me to “leave it for a bit” before I next go back.

I solved the lockdown hair problem at home, ordering a pair of clippers and perching on a chair outside as Mrs Martin did her bit. She was a bit hesitant for the first cut, but over the months has developed into a confident and competent shearer. We’ve got bolder with the grades and I now wear a more closely cropped look that I will probably keep for good. Colleagues, most of whom I have only seen on computer screens for more than a year now, seem to have either gone for the home cut option, or just let it go.

According to the radio this morning, ‘living with our lockdown locks’ is just one of the new normals of the new normal. I don’t know if that’s going to mean a return to those wonderful hippy haircuts of the late 60s and early 70s, but I do think it means lots of people are going to stop dyeing their hair. Many of us are starting to embrace the grey. Many people, the majority women, report that lockdown locks have helped remove a lot of the pressure on them to look a certain way and do away with the ‘grey hair stigma’.

‘All hail the new greys’ is what I say. I’ve been embracing it since my early twenties when my first single grey hair appeared and quickly took over my thick head of hair. I was pretty grey through my thirties, completely grey through my forties and now, comfortably into my fifties, am beginning to go white. Male contemporaries are almost to a man similarly grey or pretty bald and I know which one of those two options I would have chosen. The one exception is my infuriating younger brother who, despite being only 11 months younger, has only just begun to show grey flecks, is extremely successful, and was once asked if he was out with his uncle when we were having a drink together.

I went one worse when attending a stag night (and thank the Lord I never have to go to one of those awful things again) in Newcastle when the groom was asked if his Dad was OK as we nursed particularly special hangovers after a night on the toon. Speaking of which, it’s pub time.