My Master Behind The Chair

I am sitting in the Hairstylist chair typing this on my computer on a Saturday evening, as Ella Fitzgerald croons to, " Under a Blanket of Blue" in the background. I am done with all the hair appointments for the day, and it feels great! The stylist station has been cleaned up, and the towels are running in the laundry. All the color bowls are washed and drying, my tools have been disinfected, and the hardwood floor has been swept and mopped. The studio is wrapped in peace, and a tranquil mood sets in as I dim the lights. I feel a sense of fulfilment wash over me, having put in a full day's worth of work.

I count my blessings today, realizing that I would have given an arm and a leg to be living a scene such as this, a couple of years ago. A time when I was at a crossroads in my career, to choose between working under the pressures of the industry, or to take on the impending risk as an independent hairstylist, and work on my own. You showed me that it was possible, Ma. I wouldn't have come this far in my career as a hairstylist, if it weren't for what I have learnt from you. You believed that I was capable every step of the way. You would always tell me that, I would learn to do it better one day. You taught me the tenacity of conviction and belief, and the value of service to the community as a hairstylist. You showed me that the opportunities and the work, is unlimited.

We hairstylists are a different breed, and only we know it is true. Styling and cutting hair is merely what the world sees. The science behind it all, the biology, physics and chemistry, Yes, believe me they are all integral parts of hair, goes unnoticed. Our minds calculating color formula, while we entertain our clients seamlessly, is a talent that doesn't receive enough acknowledgement even by us fellow Hairstylists. As if remembering all the hair quirks of each client, how their hair behaved, cowlicks, and partings, and how they liked it each time, while we build a brand, not to mention social media posts, and tracking our prices and costs, while we still hold space for our clients because they just had a break up, or are ecstatic about going on a first date, isn't enough. We still put on the greatest smile, and selflessly perform from behind the chair, only because we get to do Hair. If this isn't fascinating then I don't know what is. I am grateful and proud to say we belong to this special breed of humans, Ma.

Working with you, are the most memorable years I have spent together with you. Growing up, we barely saw you because you were away at work most of the time. I am privileged to say I owned a special place with you where no one else did. For those few precious years, I became your right hand person and you were my guide, my beacon, my rock. We made a great team! You made me feel like I was being welcomed home, whenever I worked with you, Ma. Being your assistant and working beside you taught me the things no hair school could teach me.

Although, Hair school taught me the science of hair, it takes a mentor to guide that student at every step, to apply the science. Your voice was always my mentor Ma. Hair school taught me techniques. I fell in love with Hair Color Theory and the technicality of all the haircutting concepts: Elevation Angles, Finger Direction, Comb Tension and the works. The geek in me loved all the information. Once I was behind the chair working on a client, none of that rang a bell. Past all of the theories, I still hear your voice, "Let the hair speak to you. Talk to the hair" and I'm back in form, somehow understanding what I need to do. Nothing quite matches up to those golden threads of knowledge you passed on to me. The intuition of silently communicating with hair is priceless.

It took me a while to learn and unlearn so much, in cutting hair and hairstyling over the years. I wouldn't have lasted this far, had I not spent those precious years with you learning from watching you, and practicing hands-on. I am still utterly grateful for the time I had, to fly under your wings, Ma. Your clients allowed me to work on their hair because they trusted you, Shirley the Master Stylist. Some of the new clientele would ask for me to do their hair, only because word got around, and I was known as Shirley Aunty's daughter, the new hairstylist. It was a wonderful feeling.

Clients give us permission to get personal and work with their hair, it can make or break their look, yet they allow it, based solely on trust. You taught me to respect that trust. Even with thorough consultations and techniques, it takes sheer courage to make that first snip of hair, and let your intuition guide you. I still hear your voice in my head every time "The first cut is everything, be unafraid." The sense of fulfilment from seeing the smile on a client's face, because they felt even slightly better, from the moment they walked in, is humbling.

You taught me to work with integrity. Maintaining a standard and an exceptional quality of work was an unspoken understanding. It wasn't a choice, we lived by it with pride. We are a very competitive industry, our beloved hair industry. And it is no surprise, if you take into consideration the standards we maintain, and the quality of work we deliver. Who doesn't want to be the best? With new trends and techniques, we seem to have to outdo ourselves every time. Some learn to survive by bracing the harsh winds and getting stronger. Some unfortunately, give up and decide it isn't their cup of tea. You taught me push through with the tenderness of heart, Ma. To listen and work with compassion with clients.

Hair school taught us what the industry wanted, to protect us, and ensure we followed their rules. Who would have thought things like health and safety, disinfection and blood spill protocols, were the highest priority in the Hairstyling examination to pass? You taught me what it takes to serve from behind the chair with integrity and compassion. To take care of my clients first, even as I follow the protocols of a blood-spill.

My generation, the world calls the Millennials are allegedly an entitled breed, and have no resilience to take on the real demands of life. They say we are entitled about our talents and don't have the patience to work until our efforts bear fruit, Ma. I don't believe it to be true. You taught me the endurance of the journey. Giving up, was not an option. Even when it felt like a repetitive cycle of life, or god forbid when things went wrong, and I messed up for that day. We pushed through, learnt lessons, and prepared to do better the next day, and the next, until one day the results of the journey showed and we barely noticed it.

You showed me the dedication it takes to keep a career alive. The work you put in night and day. Going to the salon every morning regardless of having clients that day or not. The conviction with which you knew you would have bookings, and almost magically someone would show up, wanting their hair done. The trickle of clients and the bustle of customers, somehow had to do with your presence in the salon. It was mesmerizing and indignantly true, especially in times, when you weren't around. I understand today it was your conviction and the vision you held, Ma.

This mindset of waking up to put on the "Yolk of service" as Steven Covey puts it, is what I saw in you. To wake up with the purpose to serve, is the culture you imbibed in me. Holding space for each client, while we take in bookings and consultations for some of their biggest days, and for some a routine hair appointment, all held equal importance.

I wish you told me to take charge , play it big and start early. Although, you knew me better. You allowed me the freedom to find my path to you. I had to come to it myself, by sheer choice of my own.

With every passing day in my career, I am humbled to say that I am beginning to resemble your ways, as a hairstylist, as a compassionate listener, and as a confidante. We both know it's true, Ma. Papa will deny this as he reads it to you, while he secretly curbs his envy. All of us in the family are well aware, how he strongly believes each of his five offspring has taken after his character, in spite the fact, that we are all solid halves of both of you. We can all debate about that, and have a good laugh, on a fortunate day, when we shall all meet again, in safer times, after we get through this pandemic.

The writer is a hairstylist based in Vancouver, having grown up in the city of Hyderabad, India, where she was introduced to the trade of hairstyling at a young age. Please like this article or tip the writer, if you were reminded of your career, or Mom, or simply enjoyed reading this.