Today I have a hangover of massive proportion. And so while wandering slowly down the road to pick up an extra large coffee, I by mistake wandered into the very hip barber shop.
‘Come in,’ the barber beckoned.
I went in.
This is not a traditional barber shop. The stylists have the most marvellous beards, fabulous tattoos and hair that is brilliant blonde or electric blue. The decor is wild.
Hard to resist, even with a hangover.
I lay back in a quirky retro barber chair while my hair was washed and my scalp massaged.
Very good for a hangover.
And then I was persuaded to have a trim and to do my colour.
My five minutes to get a coffee became a whole morning of fabulous pampering.
There were a few tricky moments.
The stylist told me he’d just had a terrible break up.
‘Oh man, I’m sorry, you must miss her?’ I said.
‘I miss him,’ he replied. ‘Him.’
Oh god cringe and come on Violet, you can do better than that.
But then he told me ‘all of his older clients quite like the pixie style…’
I spluttered at the older bit.
Anyway he laughed, I kinda laughed, and then he cut my hair.
It started off quite long.
It came out pretty short.
It started off blonde.
It came out gun metal grey.
They didn’t serve coffee but they did serve hellfire whisky.
I don’t have a headache anymore.
But I do have a migraine.
I also have a great haircut.
I think, I can’t really, see, where’s the coffee shop.
Freedom Hair, Melville. They do make brilliant coffee!