A cut above

I had my 'holiday haircut' today. That's the 'oh my god, we're going on holiday tomorrow and I currently look like a hobbit' haircut. That means I have to get it cut, or the holiday photos will look like I was only stopping off somewhere nice on the way to Mordor.

Sitting in the chair today I thought two things. Firstly, I'm going quite grey now. Maybe I'll look old and distinguished when it finally takes full hold. Sadly, I'll probably look like Philip Schofield - who now has hair so strange a white that I'm pretty sure is just a computer effect, and he wears a green swimming cap for them to add it on in post-production.

The second thing I thought was about the various places and people who I've let loose on my hair. Here's (hairs) who I can (comb) remember:

- Age 8-10ish - Joe Westlake. A barber shop above a Butchers - never sure that was a good combination, especially if it was one in the same chap. My brother would take me along.The highlight was the 'spray' that Joe Westlake would offer to you the end. A distinctly 'adult' perk, that made up for the booster cushion, it was a fine mist of something like brut, musk, and bacon (I may be guessing on the last one). Years later it turned out that Joe was, and always had been, a massive alcholic and was likely drunk doing our hair - maybe he'd been drinking the spray?

- Age 16ish - Robert and Ruth Hair Design - Despite the name, you were unlikely to get the squeaky voiced male proprietor or his oddly shaped business partner. My brother and I (yes, we were brothers in hair as well) would get ours cut by a girl who worked there called Anita. Thus began the joke of saying "Your hair is nice, that's Anita haircut than last time". Cue laughter for 28minutes and then a few hours on the Sega Megadrive.

- Age 17 - The New Yorker - Centre of Torquay. Run by Italian-American man, and his floppy haired son - who my chum Shaun christened 'Young Sir' as he spoke like a 15th century noblemen/knight. As a result, I couldn't stop laughing at that made up name if he ever did my hair, and once had to ask him to stop for fear of having my head sliced open due to giggles.

- Age 18ish - Baileys Barbershop - A barbers just round the corner of my student house in Coventry. Run by two men - one with teeth that he clearly took in and out regulary, sometimes replacing them at an almost jaunty angle. A housemate claimed I was going to the "Gay" Barbershop. I discovered the chaps were brothers, to which my housemate said. "Yes. Gay brothers.". That's my hair at the time on the right, pictured with Tom O'Connor. Don't ask.

- Age 19ish - Mad Italian Man - In Cheltenham one day. Needed haircut. Italian man spoke little English. Light trim became massive buzzcut. Had to wear a hat for about a month.

- Age 23ish - The Sportsman - Wolverhamptons premier hairdresser for footballers, all the Wolves players come here it claimed. To be honest, they didn't. It was just full of photos of Steve Bull, and that was it. Downstairs to get to it, you would descend to the basement and open a door to find the waiting room - fingers always crossed there was only one person waiting. I turned up once to find 19 people waiting for a haircut. What did I do? I waited. I'm British of course.

- Age 24ish - Hairport - Hairdressers at the Birmingham Midshires head office. Yes, a hairdressers at a former building society. Cheap, and the name always made me laugh - "The hair now departing from your head..."


- Age 26ish - Village Barber Shop - A Halifax establishment run mainly by 'women'. I say it like that, as I'm pretty sure one of them was just a man with breasts and a skirt. A lot of signet rings flashed by your ears as the scissors whirled by. Like a man being asked to land a plane in a disaster film, I just looked straight ahead and hoped for the best.

- Age 31ish - The Barber Shop - Startlingly original name eh? A small backroom behind a watch repair shop in Sowerby Bridge. No-nonsense old school haircuts from man who would say two things "Not working today?" and "She got you doing the chores?". Used to charge £4. 50 for a haircut, and therefore nearly always picked up a 12.5% tip through a fiver. Moved his prices up to £5.00 shortly afterwards, and ruined his margins.

- Age 36 ish - Smartcuts - Bradfords finest barbers. Well, the only one I've been to. The barbers don't speak English and look terrifed when I walk in, they smack your head around like you've gone there for 'being hit on the head' lessons, and there's an old man who just sits in the window and sleeps. Still, £5 for a holiday haircut - suits me a treat.

Blimey. I went on a bit there. Sorry. I'll leave the country for a bit as punishment.