November 11th, 2016
First of all, I want to acknowledge that today is Remembrance Day. To all the men and women who serve our country, sacrificing your lives to keep us safe and free, we all owe you an enormous debt of gratitude. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!!
Since I wrote about our veterans and remembrance day in my post a few days ago, I will write about something completely different today. A few weeks ago, my husband's assistant took a two week vacation to visit a friend living in Vietnam. Her friend is teaching there and Brooke got to visit her friend but also travel through Vietnam. This was an eye-opener for her; the food, the culture and the experience of being a minority. I had my own eye-opener during her absence because my husband asked me to help him out for the week that he was on his own. I became Assistant for a Week.
I was very nervous because I know he and Brooke have been working together for years now and she knows what to do to support him. She is also trained as a stylist so she can apply colour, rinse hair, cut and blow dry which takes the load off of Vincent. I wasn't sure if my presence would be helpful or frustrating to him. What if I pissed him off and we spent the week fighting?
My main responsibilities were confirming appointments, making coffee, sweeping the floor, rinsing the colour bowls, taking people's money and booking their next appointments. To my surprise, I loved it! I learned a great deal about myself and my relationship with my husband. I was able to apply what I have learned to my regular life as an art therapist, author, public speaker when my life returned to normal.
Here is what I learned:
I love people! I normally spend a great deal of time writing, organizing materials for a workshop, e-mailing clients to schedule appointments or negotiate contracts. I really enjoyed being with people, talking about what is happening in their lives and seeing the parallels among the many women who walked through those doors, lots of transitions, stresses, important decisions and feeling alone with it all.
It feels so good to complete things. At the shop, I had simple tasks to complete. It was easy, no need for problem-solving or interventions. I made the coffee, swept the floor, confirmed the appointments, check! In my regular life, I have so many tasks that are endless. I clean the house but I work around the clutter left behind by my children and husband. I sweep the floor in the front entrance but I have to lift the four pairs of shoes/boots and my husband's motorcycle helmet, goggles and ear plugs. I prepare lunches for the girls and then see how much of it was wasted when they get home. Why didn't you eat this? Ran out of time. I empty the lunch kits, knowing I will refill them with the same stuff the next day. Preparing the bath for the girls, making the beds, picking up the clutter that is littering the floors and countertops. It is all so lonely and demoralizing. Trying to come up with something new and tasty for supper that everyone will love. It's never happened.
My husband and I always joke around, it's part of what I enjoy about our relationship. We get silly and love to make each other laugh. Bringing this dynamic to the shop was so fun. Clients enjoyed our banter and joined in, taking sides or adding their own twist. I have always enjoyed watching my husband work because he is so good at his job. I felt that my work at the shop was witnessed. As weird as this sounds, I was doing small, menial tasks but others, including my husband, could see what I was doing and it felt validating. No matter who hard you work when you are at home, no one sees it and it doesn't last. There is no recognition or validation.
I brought my computer to the shop and could still get my writing done between clients. This brought more balance to my day between typing and focusing on my writing, alone and, enjoying a break, a satisfying conversation with clients.
How to apply this to my regular life?
Recognizing that I need more balance between time to myself and time with others, I started meeting more of the women I interview in person rather than speaking over the phone, I bring my computer to the coffee shop to type up my notes so I see people and stop for breaks to chat with them. I challenge my children to pick up their own rooms. They now have three bins each to store dolls, art materials and small toys. This means I can now vacuum their floor without having to pick up the stuff from their room. I am doing more group work which is more dynamic and interactive in nature.
I am lucky. I have a great life. I am able to make decisions every day regarding how I will organize my work. I get to do what I love and now, thanks to this insight, I have added more socializing to my every day life.
Anne Walsh
www.artnsoul.org
Showing posts with label hair salon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hair salon. Show all posts
Friday, 11 November 2016
Wednesday, 22 June 2016
Only Her Hairdresser Knows
June 22nd, 2016
I am not a girly girl. It was a fluke that I ended up in a posh hair salon back in 2002 where I met my husband. I rarely get my hair cut, I didn't have a preferred hairstylist and I used to just get fed up and go to a cheap walk-in place to get my hair trimmed.
When I started dating my husband who is a Vidal Sassoon trained hairstylist, I had no clue just how invested some women get with their stylist. I had no clue how important hair was to these clients. To me, hair is hair, no big deal but to many women, their hair is very serious business. We met clients all the time when we were dating. These women would give me a once over and I knew they were deciding whether or not I deserved to be with Vincent. It felt like having hundreds of mother-in-laws. When I was pregnant with our first daughter, I went into labour on a Saturday (bad day when your husband is a stylist). Four of the eight women who were booked on that Saturday never returned to get their hair done after my husband cancelled their appointment on that Saturday.
Hair salons are notorious for gossip. Clients dish it out in the styling chair. My husband knows who is cheating, bankrupt, alcoholic, abusive and newly unemployed. He hears about women's frustrations with their husbands and applies this knowledge to our relationship (thank you clients!). When we are struggling with one of our daughters, he generally has at least one client who has been through it or works in an office where they deal with this and we get free advice all the time. This has come in handy.
His clients are on a six week rotation and changing these appointments is punishable by death (almost). So, when we go away for ten days every year in March, my husband returns to a packed house, trying to juggle people who are on their schedule while fitting in the clients he missed while we were away.
There is something about the fact that clients are not looking directly at my husband while they talk that leads to deep, revealing discussions. I have often wondered if it is the impact of speaking their truth while facing themselves in the mirror that lends itself to this intensity. Vincent has had women crying about childhood traumas, revealing deep, dark family secrets and admitting to feeling lost and off track in their lives-all in the stylist chair. I often joke that he is more of a therapist than a stylist because he deals with some pretty heavy-duty issues.
When we first met I thought of hair salons as a place of gossip and where women spent money on their looks. It all seemed shallow to me. However, through my husband and his clients, I have learned to see his work differently. The same women come to him every six weeks. Some of them came to see him as children and now they have their own. They connect with other clients, with Vincent and his assistant. They exchange contacts and advice. It is a safe, familiar place where people care about what is happening in your life.
On a deeper note, I have watched women go into his shop hunched and come out tall and proud. When he first takes on a client whose hair has been neglected or misunderstood, he cuts and colours it to complement the woman's skin tone and features. The result is that the client looks younger and sexy. The client stares at herself in the mirror in disbelief. Is this really me? There have been quite a few tears shed after such transformations and several babies conceived.
I am proud of my husband's work. He is competent and compassionate and he has taught me that hairstylists care about their clients, that they make a difference in their lives and that their services can be therapeutic as well as aesthetic. Long live the hairstylist!!
Anne Walsh
www.artnsoul.org
I am not a girly girl. It was a fluke that I ended up in a posh hair salon back in 2002 where I met my husband. I rarely get my hair cut, I didn't have a preferred hairstylist and I used to just get fed up and go to a cheap walk-in place to get my hair trimmed.
When I started dating my husband who is a Vidal Sassoon trained hairstylist, I had no clue just how invested some women get with their stylist. I had no clue how important hair was to these clients. To me, hair is hair, no big deal but to many women, their hair is very serious business. We met clients all the time when we were dating. These women would give me a once over and I knew they were deciding whether or not I deserved to be with Vincent. It felt like having hundreds of mother-in-laws. When I was pregnant with our first daughter, I went into labour on a Saturday (bad day when your husband is a stylist). Four of the eight women who were booked on that Saturday never returned to get their hair done after my husband cancelled their appointment on that Saturday.
Hair salons are notorious for gossip. Clients dish it out in the styling chair. My husband knows who is cheating, bankrupt, alcoholic, abusive and newly unemployed. He hears about women's frustrations with their husbands and applies this knowledge to our relationship (thank you clients!). When we are struggling with one of our daughters, he generally has at least one client who has been through it or works in an office where they deal with this and we get free advice all the time. This has come in handy.
His clients are on a six week rotation and changing these appointments is punishable by death (almost). So, when we go away for ten days every year in March, my husband returns to a packed house, trying to juggle people who are on their schedule while fitting in the clients he missed while we were away.
There is something about the fact that clients are not looking directly at my husband while they talk that leads to deep, revealing discussions. I have often wondered if it is the impact of speaking their truth while facing themselves in the mirror that lends itself to this intensity. Vincent has had women crying about childhood traumas, revealing deep, dark family secrets and admitting to feeling lost and off track in their lives-all in the stylist chair. I often joke that he is more of a therapist than a stylist because he deals with some pretty heavy-duty issues.
When we first met I thought of hair salons as a place of gossip and where women spent money on their looks. It all seemed shallow to me. However, through my husband and his clients, I have learned to see his work differently. The same women come to him every six weeks. Some of them came to see him as children and now they have their own. They connect with other clients, with Vincent and his assistant. They exchange contacts and advice. It is a safe, familiar place where people care about what is happening in your life.
On a deeper note, I have watched women go into his shop hunched and come out tall and proud. When he first takes on a client whose hair has been neglected or misunderstood, he cuts and colours it to complement the woman's skin tone and features. The result is that the client looks younger and sexy. The client stares at herself in the mirror in disbelief. Is this really me? There have been quite a few tears shed after such transformations and several babies conceived.
I am proud of my husband's work. He is competent and compassionate and he has taught me that hairstylists care about their clients, that they make a difference in their lives and that their services can be therapeutic as well as aesthetic. Long live the hairstylist!!
Anne Walsh
www.artnsoul.org
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