If any of you have spent enough time in my company you would know that I have always been ‘funny’ about my hair. By that, I mean that hair stylists – as they prefer to be called today - never know how to cut thick, coarse, hair like mine and I felt I was often left looking like the ‘wrong person’ with a hair-do that I wasn’t happy with, to say the least.
Strangely, when I did find a hair stylist who did ‘get’ my hair, they cost a fricken fortune. Why is that? Why can’t they be the cheapest haircutter in town? And, you may be saying to yourself at this point, because you have to pay to get good quality professionals, and if you are then I can say to you, that’s what I thought but wrong!
On one of my walkabouts around the streets of Naples I decided to catch the funiculare (cable car) up to Vomero, a place that contrasts to the narrow, shady streets of the historic centre where I reside. I stepped out of the station and took an instinctive turn to my left purely because I hadn’t taken that path before. A few meters down the hill I passed a small fronted shop with a fresh white frame trimmed with purple and orange – trust me it does look good. The hint of activity from the three hair stylist inside seen by my peripheral vision made me stop in my tracks and walk back to it. I stood there taking in the scene: small, neat, stylish, women, calm, nothing threatening, and in I stepped.
A young woman, Claudia, greeted me and I in return said, Buongiorno. Parla inglese? Pocco, with a sideways nod of her head. Then, grabbing strands of my hair, I point to the roots saying colour. She nodded her understanding. Quanta costa? Ventidue. I felt like I had been incorrectly quoted in my favour, a bargain price on an expensive item. When can you do it? Now.
My hair did need a trim yet given my peculiarity about my hair being cut I thought to have the roots coloured would be the test as to whether this was going to be my hairdresser whilst residing in Naples. I had tried only days before to use a packet hair dye which I hadn’t used in at least twenty years and not only did it not take to my hair but it cost me close to 19 euro to buy the products required. To have my hair coloured for 4 euro more was a dream.
Men usually do hair styling and cutting in Naples; to find a salon that has a woman working in it, let alone all women is a bit of a find. Why this is so I’m not sure but like my doctors, I prefer someone of the same gender so that they will have some understanding of how things work. I am certainly not opposed to having a man cut my hair, take a pap smear or discuss the non-joys of menopause but it certainly helps to have someone who shares a similar gender lifestyle to mine.
It was the vibe of the place that told me these women knew what they were doing. My first clue were the other clients in the salon. They were middle-aged women, of my own category and some older, who had well cut hair. Like a butcher, I pride myself on being able to see a good cut several meters off and the way the hair fell on the heads of these women told me that I was in the right place. Italian women also have thick hair similar to mine so it was reassuring that I wasn’t going to be told, as I once was by a hair stylists, that I had bastard hair.
Observing all around me, the three stylists, Claudia, Sandra and Veronica didn’t have the attire of a female night club bouncer as some hairdressers do that can make me feel that my regular clothing falls short of interesting. And if we shared the same language I also believe that I wasn’t going to be asked ‘and what are you doing tonight?’ as if it were obligatory to be dining or partying at a recently opened business that was launched by Vogue or owned by Justin Hemmes.
No, Sandra is a place of regular women of no nonsense who are unpretentious, hard working Zen masters of hair styling and cutting. Watching these woman move around a small space with grace and calm, remove hair from the floor with an efficient slow curving sweep of the broom reminded me of a gardener’s rake attending to a Japanese sand garden. The three women greeted their customers as an Australian would greet a relative. They said their name, kissed each cheek and sometimes took hold of a hand as they spoke.
The Zen stylists washed the heads of hair with as much care as a palliative nurse: gentle, loving and soothing. To watch hair being cut by them is truly remarkable as the cutter’s eye measures the thin gathered strands with a seconds pause before cutting and then scooping the next thin layer drawing it back to her rather than straight up. Cutting in small amounts is a sign of a confident cutter because each layer needs to be connected to the next and to maintain consistency when cutting this way is the work of a master.
Taking fleeting glances at the Italian version of Women’s Day, my hair gooped with colour and facing a large mirror I can see all that goes on around me. When I reached for my reading glasses, Sandra stops what she is doing, gently takes the glasses from my hands, Gladwrap’s the ends of them and presents then to me with a smile. You have no idea how much this impresses me. As a stickler for fine detail – big time!
Following the two hours of pleasure viewing hair stylists at Sandra it is time for me to have the colour washed out. This takes about 12 minutes. It is washed, then washed, then conditioned, and then washed. When placed back into my chair, I am asked in Italian if I want my hair dried straightened or natural, but I didn’t understand this at the time and so shrug. Claudia takes charge and starts to blow-dry my hair. Each layer, like cutting, is taken by a round bristled brush and rolled and straightened and rolled with the arm movements of a weaver or a percussionist. I worried about her arms getting tired and so slid down in my chair to accommodate. She smiles and we both feel good.
When the hairdryer is turned off I look up and feel transformed. My hair is a soft bouncy ball of shiny blond so perfectly styled that it looks like something from a magazine. Ordinarily I always opt for au naturale but that day I loved my new look. Perfecto! Grazie mille. Bueno, molto bueno. Grazie, Claudia. Grazie mille.
My hair bounced and curved with a silky texture I hadn’t felt before on my head. I was Mary Tyler Moore, who could turn the world on with a smile. I wanted to hug them and it took a little control not to. I paid my money and hovered a few inches off the ground all the way home.
A month later on my second appointment I had my hair trimmed and was very happy with the result. The cut was classic, as are the cutting styles at Sandra. I don’t believe it is the place to have your Mohawk or lop sided style that appears to have made a come back into fashion which is not to say they wouldn’t do it. I’m a big fan of classic with a twist, but more so of styles that suit the face despite the fashion de jour. The cut I was given was so good it inspired me to purchase some vintage sunglasses, (yes there is an ‘s’ on the end of the word), to go with my classic look. One pair is Christian Dior and the other a no-name brand but well suited for my face and I love wearing them.
I have sent quite a few people to Sandra since being here and ne’er an unhappy customer. I found out that they also do the odd eyebrow shaping and who knows what other talents these women have up their sleeves. For those of you who may venture to Naples and need your hair done here is the address: Sandra Querini – Parrucchiere per Signora, via Morghen, 70 B, Napoli. 081 578 88 91
The other thing to add is that making an appointment is not the done thing. You just turn up and wait, and what a pleasurable wait it will be.
Ciao
hellsbells
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