LOVE IS IN THE HAIR

Deprived of his attentions during lockdown, Katy Young writes a billet-doux to her cherished coiffeur

For months, I waited for the call, hoping he would see me. Meanwhile, I began to fade, till I could hardly bear to look at myself in the mirror. After 49 days (I counted them) we were at last reunited, and I took my place in the chair at Adam Reed’s salon with a thrill of joy.

My relationship with Adam has been my longest, to date – just short of seven years. Having admired his deft hands backstage at many a show, I visited him as a client. He transformed my dated Chelsea highlights into a honeyed Parisian bob, and I fell in love.

It has been reported that in Britain, we remain wedded to our hairdressers for far longer than any partner. And indeed, once we have found someone who understands our hair, why would we ever let them go? Few would willingly return to that lockdown experience of having to tackle the reality of our own grey roots and wayward blow-dries, though sales of DIY hair masks and deep conditioners soared, and I personally found my own source of retail therapy in balms and conditioners by Virtue and Monpure. ‘I was offered thousands of pounds, private drivers and PPE to cut hair in people’s homes. For some women, hair will always come first, regardless of the risks,’ Adam says.

In similar vein, Nicola Clarke, the colourist to many famous blondes including Madonna, Kate Moss and Cate Blanchett, says that she was offered Covid tests and a lot of cash in the hope that she might visit her clients sooner. She refused, but other stylists wavered; one friend confessed that she let her hairdresser in through the back door illegally to give the entire family a much-needed trim.

But then the salon doors reopened. After months of Zoom hair tutorials, one friend burst into tears on finally walking back to the salon. Bazaar’s contributing editor Hannah Betts booked her appointment at the stroke of midnight as soon as lockdown was over. ‘I don’t go in often, but I go in strategically. I want that written on my tombstone,’ she says.

For it’s more than just glossy hair that a good stylist bestows. Most are well versed in the art of therapy too; mine knows all about my hang-ups and break-ups over the years.

‘I’m more than a stylist, I’m an ear, a voice, an opinion. Cutting hair is such a personal thing. You’re touching someone’s face, seeing them with wet hair, and there’s a vulnerability to that,’ Adam says. ‘After years of hairdressing, I understand exactly how to read people, whether someone wants to talk, or just sit quietly while I do their blow-dry. It’s like a good friendship.’ He telephoned many of his clients during lockdown to check in with them, ‘because I too felt disconnected’, he tells me.

And there is a visceral link between our hair and our self-esteem: according to psychologists, a good-hair day really can instil us with a sense of confidence and control – something that so many of us lost during lockdown. Besides, a well-tended mane is a sign of good health – the most coveted of all traits right now.

The truth is, I have always favoured a laissez-faire style and could probably get away with a single cut and one set of highlights a year. But I continue to make my regular seasonal visits to the man with whom I have shared such a fulfilling relationship for so many years. Breaking up is hard to do, but leaving Adam would be impossible.