July 4th will be my independence day!
DEAR lord, when will this end? Well, July 4th, it would seem, when the nation’s hairdressers are finally allowed to reopen and we will emerge, yeti-like, from our flats and houses and charge en masse towards the salons.And it’s not just the roots: some of us are going to need a full systems overhaul, with other parts of our persons that have been neglected for months now getting industrial treatments. You ladies will know what I’m talking about. Men – best not to ask.
But word reaches me that this is not quite the whole story. A black market in hair and beauty salons has opened up, with speakeasy type establishments operating behind closed doors. I have not actually been to one myself – although if I could find one near me my lockdown interpretation of the rules would knock Dominic Cummings’s into a cocked hat – but it conjures up wonderful visions of a knock on the door in a quiet back alley and a slot in the window opening.
“You got a password?” “Vidal Sassoon.”
“You’re in.”
Listen, this is not just about frippery. Hair salons can be places of reconciliation and renewal, as I once found out on a trip to South Africa. It was while volunteering at a school in a place where there was no white population that I got to the local town, desperate for someone to tame my locks. I walked into the nearest salon and demanded emergency treatment. After everyone present had picked their jaws up from the floor, I was politely informed that they could not cater for hair like mine. After some frankly humiliating begging on my part they consented and it was only months later that I suddenly realised I was probably the first white person to have set foot in the place. I still maintain that I did more for race relations in that beautiful but benighted country than a great many well-meaning activists because I clearly had no agenda and didn’t care who did my hair, as long as they made me presentable again.
Hair is important and not just for women. Ask Samson: one bad haircut and that was the end for him.Ask Boris, come to that, who is said to have had his hair smoothed and sharpened before a public appearance, only to muss it up again deliberately before taking centre stage.
Margaret Thatcher had not so much a hairdo as a helmet. She, incidentally, was said to have advised Hillary Clinton to go lighter as she got older. Would the Iron Lady have shut our salons for an eternity? Winning the Falklands War and defeating Arthur Scargill was one thing, but there are some battles even Maggie wouldn’t have picked.
Hairdressers are the real oldest profession: go to ancient Egypt, look at the hieroglyphs and you will see evidence of hairdressing there. Ditto ancient Greece. A good hairdresser is far more than a crimper: confidante, adviser, de facto soulmate.
The Tories’ little local difficulties over trips in the direction of Durham have seen a sharp slide in the polls. Here’s where the PM, with his own awareness of the importance of hair, could amend matters overnight. Hair salons are actually extremely clean places, awash with shampoo and hot water. Open them now and the female half of the population would thank Boris for ever. SOS. Or to put it another way, Save Our Salons.