as i sat at the 4th level of wisma atria, waiting to get my hair done at Supercuts... apparently my new hairstylist, Sam, is rather popular.... and not scheduling an appointment meant that i had to wait till he was done with all the other clients... so while waiting... reading an old issue of NEWMAn... the sounds of nelly and christina going 'tilit ya head back'.... i was overcome by a sudden wave of nostalgia...
i can't remember the last time i had my haircut done at one of those indian barbers... those really authentic ones... where the barber himself was a burly indian man... normally with a moustache... who would exert force on ur head just to get ur head in the correct position for u to cut... at an indian barber... you will get a SLOPE... where the razor was pressed close to ur skin creating a neat edge to a randomly calculated gradient... then at the end of the haircut you get the shave and the dousing of talc on ur neck and ears... you leave the barber itchy, red but only about 6bucks poorer....
here i am now... a haircut that is both science and art... trust me... it takes careful calculation to hide protruding ears... and the hairstylists can even give u a haircut while u are sleeping... but of course the usual position taken would be that of reading the magazine... a haircut now comes with a shampoo or two... and a little massage... i've come a long way...
oh but that doesn't explain the nostalgia whatsoever...
the thing about that trip to the barber when i was younger was that it was a family event... my parents would packed my brothers and i into the car... my dad would drive us to the town area of jb... that's very near the customs checkpoint... somehow you can only find the authentic barbers to give you the right slope there... and coz it was so hard to get a parking space... my dad would drop my mom and the kids off at the doorsteps of the barbershop... complete with the twirling candy cane thingy... we'd each take our turn at the barber seat... getting an identical haircut... and since i was the youngest.. and the shortest at that time... i would have to sit on this plank that he added to the chair... so that i would be at a proper level to be SLOPED...
nah.. i don't miss all that one bit... obviously someone ought to teach the barber how to do a layered cut... they are obviously a vanishing trade... its a question of whether these burly indian men died of clogged arteries from the coconut milk that they consume each day.... or they run of people who could endure the SLOPE... but maybe they can consider rendering their services at TEKONG... maybe.... i'm just glad that the redness, itch and powder puffed face is but a distant memory....
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2 comments:
sucha sweet memory... very pretty :)
It's freaky, but my week's photo assignment is to do a story on a vanishing trade is singapore... And I was considering between either a shoe cobbler or an old-school barber like what you've mentioned here... Perhaps I should do both... since they're both vanishing anyway.
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