Hair Anxiety

DEBORAH CROMBIE: After all the stress on the national front last week, let's talk about something just a little less anxiety-inducing–our hair, and who we trust with it.

Back from almost a month in London, I'd made an appointment several days in advance with my usual stylist for a haircut. Then the next day the salon called me back to say that they would be permanently closed as of that Friday! What a panic! I played out all the scenarios. Would my stylist move somewhere else? And if not, how–and where–would I find someone new? 

I'd been through this fairly recently, post-pandemic. Pre-pandemic, I'd been going to the same stylist every six weeks or so for more than ten years. Then, lockdown. After about eight months, I cut my own hair (after a fashion,) and learned to cut Rick's (much more successfully.) I grew my hair longer (collarbone length!) than it had been since I was in my twenties, and let my color grow out, too, so when it finally felt safe to try a salon, I needed a brand new start. 

Fortunately, it only took me one not-too-damaging failure to find someone I really liked, but I wasn't eager to go through the process again. It is a scary prospect, putting something that's so important to our self-perception in (quite literally) a complete stranger's hands.

My story has a happy ending--although the salon chain (UK based, natch!) closed three Dallas area locations, my stylist is moving to a spot only a little less convenient for me. Crisis averted! Here's my post-pandemic do, taken in London by my photographer friend Steve Ullathorne. (First proper photoshoot since 2016, and so much fun!)

Reds, do you have a trusted hair person? And did you make big changes during or after the pandemic? 

HALLIE EPHRON: I go to a terrific stylist, Steve who owns FLIP HAIR SALON (Waving at you, Steve!) ten minutes from my house. He’ll cut it short, long, or in between, whatever I want. And he has great travel recommendations. Fully vaxed of course. And somehow they survived the pandemic.

Changing hair stylists is right up there with having to change doctors. Or dentists. Or editors (aaaggggggh!) And as you get older, it’s more and more likely to happen. The brothers who own my local gas station (shout out to EGAN’S SUNOCO) where I go for everything from gas to tires to tuneups, just retired and I am in mourning.

LUCY BURDETTE: I have one stylist in Connecticut and another in Key West. I am clinging to both with all I have! I hate to even think about the trauma wrought on us by the pandemic and hair. I grew out my brown hair to many shades of gray, which luckily John loves, thugh I am still getting used to it. I also learned to cut John’s hair, though he’s happily returned to the professionals. (Apparently they don’t gasp when they’ve cut something crooked or gone too crazy with those clippers.)

I think the trick is to find younger people to do everything, so they will hopefully outlast us!  (Here's Roberta with Christine Falcone and Ang Pompano!)

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: I have been going to the same hair person, the GENIUS Charlie, for…almost 30 years. In the beginning of the pandemic, his salon closed,  and I know I was doomed. My hair got SO long  and SO brown, but eventually I was surprisingly unfreakedout about it. I thought–whatever.

 And then, at some point it was ridiculous. Happily,  by that time, masks were de rigueur, and the amazing Charlie–wait for it–now comes to our house. He cuts Jonathan, too. When this all started we did it in the back yard. And on the front porch. Now, both masked, we cut outside and dry inside. IT IS WONDERFUL. If he ever retires, I‘m just going to give up. (My colorist, too, is a genius. Her salon is set up like a living room, one person at a time, so eventually I went there, door left wide open, and Marie wearing a mask and a plastic hood mask.  I mean–ROOTS!

RHYS BOWEN:  My hair has been cut by the same lovely Thai lady for many years now. She always gets it right. We came back from England, called for a hair appointment and she has gone back to Thailand for a while! Disaster. 

Also I haven’t found a stylist I like in Arizona after many attempts ( the last of which was the worst. Too short and uneven). And I found her on a search for best short hair stylist too!

During Covid I also cut my hair and John’s ( not too successfully) but I’m not about to try that now so I’ll have to brave a strange salon which I hate!  

JENN McKINLAY: Ben the hair wizard and his wife Barb have been cutting my hair since I married Hub. Ben has been cutting Hub’s hair since he was a teenager. Even the Hooligans go to Ben and Barb. Can’t imagine going to anyone else. I even wrote them into WAIT FOR IT because it’s set in Phoenix and they’ve been cutting hair here for 40 years. One of their clients read the book and reconnected with them after moving back to the Valley :) 

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: I had a wonderful stylist literally three minutes away from my place who did a great job with my hair. But during the pandemic, she and her bf moved away, which, I gather was great for them - he got a much better job - but not so great for me. The last time I got my hair cut professionally was back in 2021 after the first round of vaccination, and then she was gone. 

No, I still haven’t found a replacement, because, as Hallie says, it’s a difficult and traumatic as finding a new PCP. Which I also had to do, because in 2021 mine became a “concierge doctor” fifty minutes away. My most recent haircut?  At the hands of Youngest, who learned to cut her bf’s hair and bravely agreed to take a turn with mine. 

DEBS: I'm not sure who wins the "longest stylist relationship" award, Hank or Jenn!! Readers, do you have a tried-and-true person, or have you had to brave finding a new stylist or barber?

P.S. One of the many interesting things I noticed in London was the proliferation of barber shops. They are proper barber shops, too, with shaving and beard care along with haircuts. Hot towels, too! I'd love to know if this is a thing now in the US, too.

Portobello Market

DEBORAH CROMBIE: We've had a very wordy week here on JRW, so I thought it was time for a change. 

As many of you probably know, when I'm in London, I love to spend Saturdays at Portobello Market in Notting Hill. In my books, this is Gemma and Duncan's home patch, so I need to keep up to date!

Yesterday was a gorgeous day--clear, crisp, and very cold. The market was buzzing.  Here's a little visual tour, starting from the Notting Hill Gate end of the road and walking down.  This is the famous sign where Portobello Road meets Chepstow Villas.

Here's one of my favorite colorful houses at the top end of the road.

Here's the much photographed Alice's Antiques.

Looking down the hill.

Mr. Christian's deli, where I like to get an energy boost with a coffee and a croisant.

 

Some of the multitude of market stalls.

And food, of course.

The Notting Hill Bookshop, made famous in the movie Notting Hill (although it's actually around the corner from where it's shown in the film.)

My friend Steve Ullathorne's photo stall, always my ultimate Saturday destination, just under the Westway towards the north end of the road.

 

My (very late) lunch, from one of the new food stalls beyond the Westway.

And last, walking back up, the landmark Electric Cinema at dusk (sunset is just after four o'clock.)

By this time I'd been walking about five hours and was absolutely frozen. I had to go in the pub partway back up the road and warm up before walking to the top and taking the bus back to my hotel. 

Photos don't begin to convey the hustle and bustle and color and energy of the market. I've left out so much! Stalls with books and hats and jewelry and furs and cameras, the arcades, flower stalls and fruit and veg stalls, cafes and pubs and buskers and every kind of food you can imagine. 

But I hope you enjoyed the snippets, and will be tempted to visit yourselves. What would tempt you?

(And yes, I did buy a few things, but will only admit to tea...)

LONDON CALLING

DEBORAH CROMBIE: As you read this, I will be back in lovely London, staying in my favorite little hideaway hotel in South Kensington, trying to recover from jet lag before going on to events in Henley on Wednesday. In the midst of my usual frantic packing and last minute prep (does everyone else do that, or is it just me?) I was trying to organize my thoughts about what I needed to do the following week, when I will be back in London and doing some much-needed research for the book-in-progress. And I wondered what I might bring back with me that will keep me feeling connected to this particular book over the next few months.

Because it occurred to me that over the years, and the books, I have begun to collect what I think of as "writing momentos." Not that I haven't collected enough British things over the years! (We're not even counting the London Transport posters, or the teapots, or my photographer friend Steve Ullathorne's London prints. Or the generic things like handmade journals from Portobello Market , jewelry, hats, gloves, scarves . . .)

But rather things that are specific to a particular book. Touchstones. (On Friday, Louise Penny has some interesting things to say about how she stays connected to her books.)

There is the painted enamel canal-ware mug that I bought at the Canal Museum in London when I was writing Water Like a Stone. It now holds pencils and pens on my desk.

A scrap of framed chant manuscript, from A Finer End. A (rather cat-hairy) purple tartan blanket from the Scottish book, Now May You Weep. AND, although the bottles of scotch bought while writing the book have long since disappeared (mostly drunk by other people) I still keep a bottle of good scotch to remind me of those wonderful visits to the Highland distilleries.

From No Mark Upon Her and my time spent in Henley, I have a Leander pink hippo mug, and a Leander wooly hat, which I actually wore out sculling on the Thames. (But that's another story.)

So what do I want to bring back this time, to keep me centered in the current book?

A vintage Fender Stratocaster. Preferably Fiesta Red.

Somehow, I doubt that is going to happen. Sigh.

What about you, Jungle Reds and dear readers? Do you need things that physically tie you to your books?