A haircut with Aunty Barbara by Sean Closer

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In the late 1970s my dad moved to Germany for an 18 month work contract. My mum moved there with him but as I was 15 and just about to start my last year at school they decided I should stay in the UK and finish my O-levels. Obviously I couldn't live on my own so I went to live with my Aunty Barbara who resided in a nearby town.

I was very fond of Aunty Barbara, she was a widow in her 50s and a few years older than my parents. She was a little old-fashioned with her bouffant hair and conservative blouses but we got on well and I was really looking forward to living with her.

I moved in on a Friday, the day my parents flew to Germany. Aunty Barbara always went shopping on a Saturday and asked if I would like to go with her. She was having her hair done then we were going for lunch. She said my hair could probably do with a tidy up - she was right and I agreed, having a trim from an old dear wouldn't be that bad, would it?

On Saturday morning we travelled to town quite early and arrived at the hairdressers for her appointment. It didn't seem as old fashioned as I thought it would be and the lady who 'did' Aunty Barbara's hair looked to be only a few years older than me. It seemed to take an age but eventually her 'do' was done and she started to put her coat on. I was a bit surprised as I was expecting a haircut, 'What about my haircut, Aunty Barbara?' I said. She smiled and replied, 'This is a hairdressers, I'm taking you to the barber for a trim'.

I winced at the word 'barber', but she did say 'a trim', my hair wasn't very long, on my collar and over my ears but I usually went to a fairly trendy place. I'd just have to make my instructions really clear.

We walked along the street and Aunty Barbara stopped outside an old-fashioned barbers, 'HS Gill Gentleman's Hairdresser' said the sign. 'Here we are,' she said, 'your Uncle Stan used to get his hair cut here and he had lovely hair'. I remembered Uncle Stan, he did have a fine head of hair so perhaps things might not be too bad. As long as I was clear with my instructions, what could go wrong?

I opened the shop door and we walked in. It was quiet. There was one boy in the chair and Mr. Gill was just about to start his haircut. I thought I recognised him and when I saw the other two people in the shop I realised it was the Johnson twins from school with their mother. Aunty Barbara recognised them too, 'Hello Rita, fancy bumping into you. I didn't know this was where your boys got their smart haircuts'.

For 'smart' you could substitute 'extremely short'. The Johnson twins were good lads but their haircuts were truly dreadful, they usually looked like they were from the 1940s. I began to feel a knot in my stomach. I could vaguely hear Aunty Barbara and Mrs. Johnson chatting in the background but all I could really focus on was Mr. Gill as he set about David Johnson's hair. There wasn't much at the start but by the time he had finished the haircut, poor David looked like he'd joined the army.

As his brother walked to the chair David Johnson was rubbing the back of his neck and smiling at Aunty Barbara as she said,'What a smashing haircut that is.' and, turning to me, 'What do you think? Doesn't he look smart?'. I was speechless, the knot in my stomach tightened, I had an awful feeling about my 'tidy up'.

The next few minutes were a blur. Ian Johnson's haircut was finished, exactly the same as his brother's, Aunty Barbara said how smart he looked, Mrs. Johnson paid and they left, the boys smirking, they knew someone else would be joining the short hair club at school....and so did I.

Aunty Barbara smiled and pointed at the barber's chair, I shuffled across as slowly as I could and slumped down. Mr. Gill quickly secured the cape around my neck and before I could trot out my well rehearsed 'just a very light trim' script, Mr. Gill looked towards Aunty Barbara and asked, 'What is he having today?'.

It felt like an age before she smiled and said, 'A nice short back and sides please, just like those last boys'. I wanted to jump out of the chair but I couldn't move. Mr Gill ran his comb through my hair before picking up his clippers, brushing the remains of Ian Johnson's bristles from them and commencing my short back and sides haircut. He passed the unguarded clippers up both sides of my head and I watched my hair slide down the cape. I hardly noticed how high he had shaved over my ears as all I could see was my hair sticking out from the back of my head - like a mullet. I smiled as I hoped he'd leave it so I could try and pass my new hair cut off as trendy.

Aunty Barbara saw me smile, 'I knew you'd like it' she said. I didn't have the heart to tell her I hated it.

'Right lad, chin down as far as you can please.' I bent as far forward as I could and felt Mr Gill lift my hair with his comb and run the clippers from my nape up the back of my head. He seemed to spend an age clippering the back of my head after which he blended the top (slightly) all the way round. I looked like a freak as the thick hair on top of my head just looked out of place. Mr Gill had plans to rectify that problem as turned the clippers off and picked up his thinning shears. He started lifting hanks of hair and hacking away at it. It felt like he was half cutting, half pulling my hair out and I noticed that as he was cutting he was combing my hair forward - he was intent on giving me a fringe.

Once Mr Gill had finished with his thinning shears my haircut looked more balanced and he proceeded to cut me a straight fringe which just touched my eyebrows - I hadn't had a fringe since I was about 10.

He put his comb and scissors down and turned to Aunty Barbara, 'Is it short enough?' He said. Aunty Barbara got up from her chair and walked up behind me. She had put her glasses on and ran the back of her finger up my neck, 'That's just what I wanted, I really like that haircut'. 'Would you like some haircream on?', 'Yes please,' said Aunty Barbara.

Mr Gill then rubbed some cream in my hair and parted my hair on the left. 'I'd recommend a haircut every 4 weeks, I can always cut it shorter next time if his hair grows quickly. Now he has a proper haircut, it won't take as long to cut next time.' I was shocked to hear Aunty Barbara agree to this interval between haircuts. Mr Gill dusted me down and I touched the back of my head. All I could feel was bristles.

On the way back to her car Aunty Barbara linked arms with me. 'Does your neck feel cold?' She asked. 'Yes, very. I didn't think you would make me have such a short haircut.' I replied. 'It wasn't planned,' she said,'I just thought those boyss looked really smart with their lovely short haircuts. And so do you, short back and sides really suits you. You remind me of my Stan. When he was younger he always had his hair cut in a short back and sides and I loved it. Will you keep it like that?'.

How could I refuse? I kept my short back and sides for the rest of my stay and visited Mr Gill regularly with Aunty Barbara.

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