Coiffeur

n. – hairdresser
Beau
Adj. – handsome or good-looking
Cheveux
n. - hair
Foncé
Adj. – dark
Clair
Adj. – light
Lourd
Adj. – heavy

Friday marked my first visit to a French hairdresser. I needed a little re-blonding and because I was afraid to go just anywhere, chose probably one of, if not, the most expensive salons in Paris.

It was grand and luxurious, the colorist tall, good-looking and sporting long, fair-haired dreadlocks. I’m not really sure of everything we discussed, but I hoped that I made myself clear enough since I was putting my delicate strands in his hands.

He introduced me to the person who would take over after his work was done – another equally good-looking and fair-haired young man who I also didn’t understand entirely. At one point the second one said to the first, “elle ne comprend pas” (she doesn’t understand) to which the first responded, “non, elle ne comprend pas” to which I chimed in meekly, “peut etre c’est mieux!” (maybe it’s better!)

There was another young Japanese man who was there to apply balm on my scalp so that it wouldn’t become irritated by the color and also to rinse the color off and give me probably the best shampooing and head massage of my life. There was even someone who gave me little plastic sleeves to protect the sides of my glasses from my wet hair.

After my shampoo, I was whisked over to good-looking coiffeur #2 for a “coupe de cheveux” and “brushing” (hair cut and blow dry). I think it was the latter that confused me initially because when he asked me if I did that, I thought to myself, well of course I brush my hair, but in fact he meant do I blow dry, which in fact, I do not.

He explained he was going to give me a cut like his, which scared me a little since the front of his hair basically covered almost half of his face – think Carine Roitfeld, the editor of French Vogue. But since he was so good-looking, I decided he could cut it however he wanted. In this case I use the word “it” for hair rather than hair-cut, but in French, the word for hair is actually plural – “les cheveux.” So whenever anyone, my husband included, refers to hair, they call “it” “them,” which is actually more logical for a change, but still amusing.

There was another good-looking, dark haired apprentice whose job was to hold one part of my hair(s) while the other finished blow-drying the rest. When it was all over, I felt like I needed a cigarette, but I don’t smoke any more. They did a fabulous job. The color was a little darker than I’m used to, but I’m convinced that either I didn’t explain what I wanted well enough or good-looking coiffeur #1 simply decided it would be better this way, in which case again, who am I to argue.

But after a few days of getting used to it and after a conversation I had today with French friends at lunch, something occurred to me. I like being a blonde - I was born a blonde and I’ll “dye” a blonde (to coin the expression of another blonde I know). Being blonde makes me happy, but here it seems like suffering is a more prevalent state of consciousness. The word I came up with at lunch that everyone agreed on to describe the general sentiment I’ve encountered was “lourd” or heavy. And I realize that my blondeness may just have been a bit too light for the comfort of my fair-haired, but still Parisian, coiffeurs.