Who'd have thought it was twelve weeks or thereabouts since Christmas? That was the last time I visited Gustav, and my hair has been looking like a topiary in need of a buzz cut. I exaggerate, of course. My hair was showing softer contours, something of which my mother would have approved. However, when short hair reaches a certain tipping point, you get up every morning looking as if you've spent the night on a ghost train.
It was a gorgeous day in Marylebone. Whilst the sun was giving it its best shot, it was still cool in the shade of buildings. Two hours with Gustav and I emerge sharper, and sassier from badinage and re-shaping.
I return home and Lillie next door, pops up from behind the hedge which she has been trimming. Now Lil is my kind of gardener: an all or nothing girl. She had been giving it some, all day in full sun. Well, she is more than a little Italian. She is also a hairdresser and there I was, with my newly coiffed locks.
She noticed immediately, of course. We've talked of this before and I have expressed my unwavering allegiance to Gustav F.
"I could do that for you, and just as well," she started.
"Ah, but I would hurt Gustav enormously if I jumped ship, Lillie." I replied.
"No, I understand," she said, "my clients say the same thing to me."
Ever so slightly uncomfortable, I said, "Well Lil, when I''m old and frail..."
"Then I'll tell you to fuck off!" she said.
And we fell about laughing.
No comments:
Post a Comment