That is the saga of a bleached blonde (there’s one other variety??) in coronavirus time. Quarantined, sporting a baseball cap 4 months, she hadn’t had her roots accomplished since January.
In one other galaxy, not in New York however in the state of Massachusetts, her longtime hairdresser reopened. No phoning. Appointment and affirmation by e-mail. Three days in advance got here a three-page dos-and-don’ts protocol. No money can be dealt with. Solely bank card with prearranged tip. The day earlier than the appointment she was to e-mail reconfirmation.
Informed, “Put on an outdated shirt. No smock, apron or towel will probably be given.”
Additionally: Arrive 15 minutes early. Stay in your automobile till colorist notifies by textual content she’s prepared. Guidelines: Proceed to door. Wait exterior. Current ID. Your temperature’s taken with a thermometer plus some instrument in opposition to your brow plus a curbside Q&A about your well being.
Put on gloves and masks. Don’t have anything with you however automobile keys and cellphone. No coats, no purses. No sandwich, tea, espresso or water will probably be given.
Dots are on the ground six paces aside. Patron should stand on furthest dot till waved in. It normally has 10 chairs, 10 stylists. Now, two chairs, two patrons, two hairdressers. Their shift is 6:30 a.m. until 2. Two extra take over till 9:30.
Tapes have closed unused cubicles. One consumer at a time. No shampoo lady, manicurist, receptionist, assistant or matron. No cloakroom, no altering room. No reception desk, no merchandise to buy, no magazines with tales of Gwyneth getting thinner or sniffing out the strangest of candles, Madonna getting older and but attending a London protest on crutches, Kanye getting gentler and rolling out a Yeezy magnificence line. No settees, no ready room, no buddies.
Assuming you’d like a facial, neglect it. Pedicure? Uh-uh. Brows formed? Lotsa luck. Make-up testers or attempting false eyelashes — no. Electrolysis? No. Tanning? No. Waxing? No. No specialists, no perfume attempting. Chin plucked? Shove it. They’re not sanitizing tweezers. Additionally no time-consuming hair remedies. It’s one shampoo sales space with tapes throughout these unused.
Then comes the attention-grabbing half. Exterior the constructing, instantly on a busy metropolis road, out in the air, smack in opposition to a bagel store and alongside a jewellery retailer sits a line of hardback picket chairs. They’re strung alongside the avenue 6 ft aside. That is precisely exactly the place shoppers mid-procedure wait for his or her tints to take or the frosting to frost and with the process’s silver foil strips on their heads. There, the place buddies and neighbors can move by and see them, they sit and wait for his or her coloring to paint.
And that is to value them $350 but.
The colorist? Masked, gloved and with plastic masking her head and mouth. She appears to be like like a welder. And the place appears to be like like a warehouse. Vegetation, flowers, gone. Pictures eliminated. No music. No clothes positioned on chairs.
And from whence cometh such Draconian guidelines? Patrons have been informed: “It was hours of coaching. To arrange, the administration introduced in a retired New York Metropolis policeman.”
Nice. And if Mrs. de Blasio has her approach, a complete precinct may offer you your subsequent feather lower.
Extra glamour and wonder. Jill Spalding (Spence and Miss Porter’s Faculty grad, so she’s very very Higher East Aspect) has written Parameter Press’’ “Luxurious, a Historical past.” Goodies from perfumes of Arabia to cedars of Lebanon to Damien Hirst’s diamond cranium to “Emperor of the Aztecs suspending a turquoise from his nostril.” Apologies to the emperor, however with CV, no time to stay a gemstone up your nostril. Pub date’s delayed till March.
Barbershop consumer: “It’s robust shaping my beard as a result of the drawback is I don’t have a particular chin.” Barber: “No drawback. Your lip covers it.”
Solely in New York, youngsters, solely in New York.