The Hairdresser

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I’ve become very low-maintenance since my arrival in Sicily. Contrary to my past life, I now seldom wear makeup, never blow-dry my hair, am not quite sure where I’ve put my straightener and I think the last time I had my nails done was for our wedding over a year ago!

Occasionally I look in the mirror and mourn the loss of my former well-groomed self. I can hear my darling, late mum protest in horror. One of her favourite lines was “facework before housework” girls. There weren’t too many situations in her mind that a fresh coat of lipstick wouldn’t improve. Growing up I can remember mum disappearing upstairs every day, twenty minutes or so before dad got home from work. She’d fix her hair, spray her Fidji perfume liberally, change into a dress and her feathery, heeled slippers and waft down the stairs just in time to open the front door as dad walked up the drive.

I’m not sure she’d be impressed by my array of scrunchies and hairbands in every colour under the sun – it’s too hot here to do anything with my hair other than tie it up – and the daily temptation to just shave it all off is real! As for “facework”, factor 50 and a slick of mascara and I’m done! I have to admit, it’s really very liberating!

However, with a trip home to Dublin looming I chickened out! My ever growing greys (more like snow-whites in reality) were not part of my homecoming plan and so, for only the third time in almost a year I headed to the hairdresser’s!

Now I’m pretty pleased with how well I can manage many of life’s daily tasks in a new country and a new language. I’m driving everywhere without gripping the wheel so tightly that my hands actually cramp when I arrive at my destination (yes, that really was me for the first four or five weeks driving Italian style!), I do the shopping, have made Sicilian friends, can order in restaurants and chat in the supermarket or doctor’s waiting room. But, I honestly cannot make myself understood at the hairdressers!

I prepare as if for battle. I research the vocabulary, conjugate the verbs, screenshot photos from Pinterest and psych myself to insist that I know what I want, but after my third visit I’ve actually realised that’s not how it works around here. The hairdresser knows what she’s going to do with my hair before I do.

This morning was my second time with Angela. I explained what I was thinking, no need to mask or cover the greys, just add some highlights to blend them in… she answered in what I thought was agreement but within minutes there was a cape around my shoulders and she was slathering my head with a beige-ish kind of cream. I took a sneaky selfie and texted my sis in Dublin – “In the hairdressers and yet again I’ve no idea in the world what she’s doing. Every time a surprise!”

Angela worked away for a bit on another client, Gabriella, and then suddenly everything stopped. Gabriella had brought breakfast treats and before long we were all eating bomba from the best Pasticceria in Modica and chatting about Celtic music and the similarities between the Irish and the Italians. It was magic. It was one of those “I’m so glad to be here” moments that regularly pop up unexpectedly and just when I need them.

Angela was busy after that so she asked Gabriella to step in to wash my hair! Well that turned out to be a complete joy because Gabriella is a beauty therapist so I had a blissful head massage thrown in. She lost her salon during covid so now she travels to clients houses to do nails, make up or give massages… I smiled to myself thinking never in a million years would one client wash another’s hair at home, but here it was natural and warm and lovely. Another client arrived and exclaimed, “ah la signora di Dublino” – coincidentally we’d both been there the same day on my first visit. I liked the sense of being a ‘regular’

As for my hair…. Well, I love it. It’s soft and healthy because it’s never straightened anymore and to quote the brilliant Angela, “il colore e stupendo”, so stupendo in fact that the client who arrived as I was leaving pointed and proclaimed she wanted exactly lo stesso,  the same.

Going to the hairdressers in Sicily has become my new favourite thing to do!