Women rush to get hair done at last-chance salons
HAIRDRESSERS are reporting a surge in demand from women who want to get their hair done before being stuck indoors for weeks due the coronavirus pandemic.
A spokesman for The National Hair and Beauty Federation, which represents thousands of salons, said: ‘We’re seeing a rush. Customers are trying like mad to get bookings because, let’s face it, everyone feels better with good hair. But in many cases the salons have already closed or are about to close.’
Danielle Zarebski, who runs Danielle’s Level Headed in Barrowupon-Soar in Leicestershire, said: ‘Women are coming in wanting their hair done so it doesn’t become too wild if they are stuck indoors. I’ve been very busy as a result.
‘I’m taking a lot of steps to keep customers safe, such as only using one apron per person, anti-bacterial spraying of the chair between appointments and mopping the floor every five minutes.’
There are more than 40,000 hair and beauty salons throughout the UK and the industry is worth £6.6 billion a year. A typical high street salon charges around £50 for a cut and blow dry and about £100 for highlights or colouring.
Psychologist Rachel Hudson said: ‘Suddenly women are faced with having to provide families with food and care for an indefinite period. They are in full planning mode. They will be thinking ahead and trying to complete everything which normally needs to be doneincluding their hair. Hairdressers may represent a last time for “self” for many women.
‘It is hard to imagine that women need to worry about their hair in these extreme and extraordinary times. At the same time women are expected to be well-groomed too.’
FOR some, it’s all about stockpiling loo paper. Others are going nuts over whether the Fairtrade coffee is going to run out. But for many women like me, if we can’t get to the hair colourist, a supply of home dye must be added to the list of key necessities.
Now ‘home’ and ‘dye’ are not two words I type lightly. The last time I attempted something of the kind on my hair, as opposed to a tie-dye T-shirt, was around 1976 when I would dump on sacks of henna paste and pray that I emerged looking like Kate Bush.
Currently, my hair is by no means silver – at least I don’t think it is. I’ve actually no idea what my natural hair colour is now since I haven’t been acquainted with it for at least 15 years. But a rough guess would place it at piebald.
Mel, at Josh Wood Colour, has done a sterling job at keeping me in blissful ignorance of the reality of the situation for many years and, as I type, I’m booked in with her in a few hours time. Phew! At least I’ll be newly painted if London does get put into lockdown.
And I will have had some tuition on the basics should it get to the point where I have to go DIY. Sadly, Mel’s expert ‘caramel highlights around the face’ are not going to be possible when it’s just me and the bathtub. It’ll be more of a slamdunk Morticia Addams, I fear.
Keeping hair coloured may seem trivial amid the current tsunami of terrors but to some of us this is big stuff. Quite a significant number of us, I’d say, judging from anecdotal evidence. This is not about age. It’s about maintaining a sense of self in a time of crisis and my self does not have grey hair. At least it never wants to see itself with grey hair.
In some ways, I wish I had joined the glad-to-be-grey brigade as going without colour would be a whole lot easier and cheaper.
I have real admiration for those who have allowed nature to take its course and, when I left my job at Vogue, I did contemplate taking this route. For about half an hour.
I thought about how, since I would be under lighter public scrutiny and not heading up a magazine about fashion and style, I could let it all just go hang. Elasticated waist trousers were on the list too.
Then I realised this was the last thing I wanted to happen. I am not that smiling silver-haired person and coronavirus is not going to turn me into her. In fact, the virus has thrown into sharp relief how important it is for all of us to do whatever it takes, to feel the best we possibly can.
Paying attention to our appearance as the world falls apart isn’t shallow – it fulfils a deep-seated psychological need.
Leonard Lauder’s famous Lipstick Index that deems sales rise as economies plummet will rarely have been proved more correct. When the bad times roll, we all need a quick and easy pick-me-up. And for millions of us, lipstick is that very thing. Look at the pictures of the Queen driving off to Windsor with her trademark bright colour.
As a single friend said yesterday on the phone: ‘I’ve just put on the lippy and sprayed on the perfume – and I’m here all on my own.’
This is not about who else is going to see us. It’s about self-nurturing. Nul points for anyone who’s giving into whole days in pyjamas. And, of course, as well as not turning into slobs, table-up dressing (focusing on the top half that can be seen) has rarely been more relevant now so much of our communication will be via Skype, FaceTime or Zoom (confession: until three days ago I’d never heard of Zoom), both when it comes to remote working and for keeping in touch with friends and family. Unfortunately, those webcams don’t provide the most flattering of images so I’m all for anything that makes us look better since we’re going to be spending hours staring at screens filled with those pixelated little videos of ourselves.
After all, it’s not ideal to be greeted, as I was by my mother on Skype last week, with the cheering words: ‘You don’t look too hot!’
I NEVER imagined a time when the guilty secret of the week would be that you had sneaked out to a restaurant.
And no – we haven’t.