Added: Mohammed Mcgrath - Date: 17.01.2022 17:00 - Views: 39220 - Clicks: 6531
My first job, not in a farm setting, was — shampoo girl. Patrons would walk up the driveway, tap on the side door and let themselves in. A little bell hung above the entrance to announce their arrival. I recall the earliest haircuts with me sitting on a board Marie laid across the armrests of her chair.
She was the only person to cut my hair until I reached my early teens. She was a kind lady and I felt very at home at working there. The salon was a dark paneled room with one sink for washing hair, two work stations and Hair curler stories hair dryers. Her business was about people and service, not pizzazz, and everyone was fond of her. I smell permanent wave solution and cigarette smoke. A heavy glass ashtray adorned every surface. No one had heard of no-smoking laws, and we did, after all, live in a tobacco farming community.
I am grateful to my younger self for not adopting the habit like so many of my contemporaries. My job was straight forward: wash hair; sweep floors; pass curlers and pins, perm rods and papers. There was a large pedestal tray on wheels that was stocked with curlers of differing sizes, arranged by colour.
The curler pins were stored, he at one end of the tray compartment and points at the other.
I imagined that it was like being a surgical nurse. Beauty came at a price for the fiscally conscious who did their hair at home. Drying time was a big factor; wet hair twisted around a curler takes a long time to air dry. Some ladies hastened this process with portable hair dryers like the one shown below. I myself have been the victim of this contraption and remember well the tops of my ears feeling aflame.
T he restricted range allowed by a length of electrical cord proved inconvenient during the drying time which may have lasted up to an hour. Most ladies washed and set their hair at bedtime, so their curls could dry overnight. Imagine the discomfort of the spiky curler bristles and plastic pins pressing into their scalps when their he laid on the pillow. Not everyone was willing to contend with the overnight pain. A lady wearing curlers under a black or pink chiffon head scarf was a common sight at the grocery store.
It has been such fun to revisit bouffant hairstyles, backcombing and beehives, but there is a larger purpose behind my stroll down memory lane.
My novel The Last Hoffman spans the s to s. The narrative required a hub for the exchange of community news much like the weekly visit to the general store or the post office in days gone by. Because of my experience, I recognized the small town salon as a perfect device for this purpose. A of ladies had a standing appointment for the same day and time each week, year in and year out.
This practice provides me with a delicious opportunity Hair curler stories dream up fascinating local characters and maybe — a little trouble — to keep things interesting. PS Thanks for stopping by. Sacrifice, betrayal, family secrets!
A widower and young mother struggle to overcome their tragic pasts in a dying mill town. The Last Hoffman is the story of a quiet man who is tested and discovers his courage. It will restore your belief in second chances. The ending is triumphant!
Gwen Tuinman is a novelist, born and raised in rural southern Ontario.
Fascinated by the landscape of human tenacity, she tells stories about people navigating the social restrictions of their era. Her storytelling is influenced by an interest in bygone days. Feeling Nostalgic. May 20, at pm. This is a great piece, Gwen. I can see the salon. My mother always goes to salons like this. I had long hair for a really long time and so rarely did anything but trim it and wear it in a bun, and one very very bad experience with a perm when I was about fourteen convinced me to never do anything involving chemicals to my hair ever again. And of course, their hair is perfectly tinted and coiffed.
Good luck with the fiction piece. I so enjoyed reading your comment. I too suffered a perm nightmare. What were we thinking? I had such an image in my mind when you described the ora who just had a permanente done. Your comment was a gift: Thank you for the well wishes for my writing also.
Take good care. Your post brought back such delicious memories of hair styling, curlers and those horrific hairdryers that practically burned your skull. I remember sleeping with those prickly rollers on my head. And the scotch tape and the smell of permanent solution that took days to get out. What a wonderful subject for a novel. And lots of opportunity for Hair curler stories. It must be fun to write. Good luck with it. May 21, at am. Carol, so great to hear from you. It must have been a lot of fun for you girls to play there. Hair teased up.
Sounds like good fun! May 21, at pm. Great post Gwen — my mother had one of those hairdryers and I did use it now and then when I was little — seeing that picture brings back the memory of it — I can remember the sound and the sensation of it on my head! May 22, at am. I think the occasions when I suffered through the time under the drier, involved preparations for a Sunday school Christmas ant. I thought the tops of my ears would burst into flame. When the drier cap finally came off, I remember that the curlers had to stay in until the hair cooled down.
Oh my, it was a big time commitment:. May 27, at am. Hi there! This is kind of off topic but I need some advice from an established blog. Is it difficult to set up your own blog? Do you have any ideas or suggestions? Appreciate it. Hi Jumi. So glad you dropped by. I messaged you on Facebook with a few suggestions. Enjoy the journey: I look forward to visiting your blog soon. All the best. November 12, at pm. In fact I love the whole salon experience. Thanks mum for making me the person I am today. March 20, at pm. What Hair curler stories lovely remembrance, Lance. Thank you so much for writing.Hair curler stories
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