I know many people who go to the hairdresser mainly to chat. I, on the other hand, go to shut up. I don't like being talked to at all. In fact, I ended up changing hairdressers because a certain hairdresser had me fed up with their torrential verbosity. That they give you conversation when you haven't asked for it is very annoyingand, since I am a journalist, it often happens to me; for example, at weddings. When the strangers with whom I am forced to share a table discover that I work on the radio, I no longer have an escape: that if the
procés, that if the war in Ukraine, that if Messi, that if I always listened to Bassas or Cuní and that was real journalism... What a bore! On these occasions, I wish I had dedicated myself to quantum physics or become a specialist in Semitic languages. I imagine no one would dare to talk to me about the interaction of light with particles or emphatic consonants while sucking the head of a shrimp.
When I sit in the barber's chair, I immediately close my eyes and pretend to be asleep to avoid being bothered. It usually works quite well for me; the hairdresser concentrates on their work without opening their mouth so as not to wake me up, and I can relax for a while and let my imagination fly. I must say that I really enjoy this little moment of disconnection, of literally putting myself in the hands of someone who touches my head at will and skillfully handles scissors and a razor dangerously close to my jugular... Don't you think that hairdressing, sometimes, approaches BDSM? More than once you have to let out an "ouch" as a safe word to let the hairdresser know to moderate their enthusiasm. A few years ago, the height of modernity was unisex hair salons. Men and women shared an establishment to get their hair done. I fondly remember Tall i tallats, a hair salon-cafeteria with a lot of tradition that twenty years ago was next to the Mercat Nou de Sants. Modern men and women would go to get their hair cut in this establishment and before or after would have coffee or a drink. On the contrary, now barber shops focused exclusively on a male clientele and, especially, on bearded men, are popping up like mushrooms. Most have a retro aesthetic that harks back to traditional barber shops where a few years ago only grandfathers would set foot, emerging with slicked-back hair and smelling of Floïd. These establishments are inspired by 1950s American barber shops, presided over by the unmistakable large metal chairs of the era and with the classic white, red, and blue pole on the facade as an advertisement. The walls are usually full of black and white photographs of bearded and attractive men. Just as bearded and attractive are the barbers who run them.
A group of hipsters cut from the same cloth, generally tattooed, which surely accumulate thousands and thousands of followers on their respective Instagram accounts.
Most have a retro aesthetic that harks back to traditional barber shops where a few years ago only grandfathers would set foot, who would then leave with slicked-back hair and smelling of Floïd.
It is surprising that the reference for these barbershops, as their name indicates, is Anglo-Saxon, while women's hair salons continue to be mostly inspired by France and, singularly, in Paris as the capital of fashion, perfumery, and aesthetics. Le Salon, Le Petit Salon... There are a lot. Some time ago I went to one of these very refined French-style unisex hair salons and it was quite an experience: while they washed my head with a choreography of hands that seemed rehearsed to the millimeter, they put cucumber slices on my eyes to refresh me, which, by the way, I ended up paying for at the price of a tasting menu. Barcelona is a city of bars, but it is undoubtedly also a city of hairdressers. From humble neighborhood establishments to Upper East Side beauty salons. Without forgetting, of course, the large chains of beauty salons like the one created by our most important hairdresser of all time: Lluís Llongueras, an essential figure in the social chronicle of recent decades and with a popularity that no other hairdresser has surpassed. During the 2013 crisis, the exuberant Llongueras was asked if the terrible economic situation was taking a toll on the business. He replied that he was convinced that, despite the rampant crisis, people would continue to invest in taking care of their hair as they had been doing since ancient times, and he concluded lucidly: "After all, I live off the fact that hair keeps growing!"So there it is: long live hair salons and the promise of leaving better than we entered.