Catalytic thoughts at the hairdresser's

I went to have my hair washed and trimmed, which led to some thoughts as I sat there in the salon.

Umpteen years ago, I was a small, shy girl tugging at her mum's arm as she entered the salon, and flipping through 'Sisters' pictorial magazines while waiting for her mum to have her hair styled. I used to wonder what those huge 'helmets' hovering over my mum's head were. I guess that they were for styling purposes.

My mum's hairdresser has now become mine as well. She has seen me grow into a woman who's more feminine, since I decided to leave my boyish hair long at 17. She knows what degree I majored in, my first job as well as my current one. She knows about my family situation and asks after my parents. I feel so familiar with her and if a new hairstylist were to replace her, I'd feel awkward. She's not only a service provider but also a family friend to me.

Her initially small and crowded salon has now been renovated into a spacious and modern one. It incorporates facial and manicure services as well. She has come a long way in her own enterprise and in her relationship with us.

The things I look forward to each time I set off for a haircut are that my hair is in the safe hands of someone I trust, I get a soothing massage when I get my hair washed, since she does it more thoroughly, and I get to read the latest women's magazines for free! Haha, I'm a magazine freak.