Humor

He Created a Ridiculous Hairstyle That All His Clients Wore

But when it lost its popularity he seemed unable to create another

He dreamed of pursuing a career as an artist, but life and family put his plans on hold, until a surprising opportunity came his way. Nonetheless, having artistic talent only takes you so far when your lack of flexibility leads you down a boring path.

As a young boy, my father painted Christmas scenes on storefronts for 25 cents per window, and as an adult, created many oil paintings from photographs. His artistic endeavors barely fed our family, though, leaving him no alternative but to take a job painting and spraying vending machines.

Additionally, in his spare time, he produced signs for the windows of a nearby department store, as his calligraphy skills were amazing. That was the closest he came to expressing himself artistically.

The family was happy for him when he decided to pursue a career in hairdressing, where he felt he could indulge his creative self.

We were his first subjects

He took night courses for two years, turning our family’s kitchen into a makeshift salon where he practiced cutting, washing, dyeing, bleaching, and styling our hair.

Each week, we would sit in this special chair, filled with trepidation, never knowing what he had in store for us.

Lucky for us kids, most of his new skills were practiced on my mother, who received a complete makeover. He took her natural dark brown, curly hair, cut it short, and bleached it to an ash-blonde color.

Then he used a technique called “teasing,” which included piling the hair high up on her head over her tiny face, making her head look out of proportion to her body.

The styles of the day were sprayed with a heavy lacquer, rendering hair stiff and immovable. With her new hairdo, my mother could have braved a hurricane without a single hair blowing out of place!

As part of his course, he secured a 6-month internship at a nearby salon with the possibility of becoming a permanent part of their establishment.

What he loved most was being allowed to create a variation of the current hair style.

The helmet head was born

At first, his creation was well-received among many of the older women who came to the salon for their weekly shampoo and styling. It was popular back then for women to have their hair professionally styled every seven or so days, with no washing in between.

While the style may have looked out of place on my mom, some of his repeat customers wore it well.

Despite his clients leaving the salon looking as if they were wearing a helmet, he seemed to know what he was doing, and my mother was a good sport about it as she wore her coiffure, too.

It was entertaining for me and my siblings to see my mom with her hair all teased up inches above her face. Even though she couldn’t help but laugh at the comical result, she kept her feelings to herself in front of my dad.

But when the styles started to change, my father did not.

Set in his ways

My father had a very predictable, routine-oriented personality. Once he found something he liked, there was no deviation.

For example, he ate a bowl of oatmeal with exactly two lumps of butter and two spoonfuls of sugar, with one cup of milk for breakfast, a cheese sandwich on white bread for lunch, and a glass of milk with Graham crackers for his bedtime snack without fail every day. Only his dinner was my mother’s choice.

However, this immutable trait would prove to be his downfall, as he only seemed to be able to create one hairstyle — the “helmet head,” as we called it.

His good looks and charming personality had only carried him so far.

Initially, his clients were satisfied leaving the salon with the same style every week, but problems arose when he was asked to learn something new or copy a more current style.

As creative as he was, he struggled with this, and his attempts at new styles often resulted in lopsided hairdos with a greenish tint. Being unable to change his routine would prove to be his undoing and hinder his success as a hairdresser.

Despite all the training, practicing, and internship experience he had, every woman who sat in his chair ended up with the same style and color as my mother — the ash-blonde, teased, piled-high, helmet-head look.

His clients became frustrated with the lack of variety and eventually left him for other stylists.

Much to his dismay, he was not successful in obtaining a job there or anywhere else, which ended my father’s career as a beautician.

Kept his day job

For a while, he continued practicing his skills on my mother’s hair with the same color and style until she eventually decided she wanted her natural curly, brown hair back.

Luckily, he kept his day job as a paint-sprayer until he retired.

Years later, when she thought it was the right time, my mother pulled out a few pictures of herself during his hairdressing days when she wore the ash-blonde, teased-up hair to show my father.

We weren’t sure how he was going to take it. After perusing through them, he became quiet before suddenly erupting into laughter.

“Is that what I made everyone look like?” he asked innocently.

We all nodded simultaneously.

His laughter persisted. It seemed he finally found the humor in his failed beauty career and redundant hairstyle, which we all, including himself, refer to as the “helmet head days.”

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