The Haircut Story Site

The first hair wash after all these year by Keith Martin

The first shampoo, all these years later.

Last year I had written about my first hair wash experience at a hair salon. Well, recently I revisited the place and as
I got up to the 3rd floor of the department store there it was the men's hairdresser were, as a dopy 5'10 lanky, hairy lad, in my late teens, had my first, totally unexpected, forward facing shampooing back in the 1990s.   Memories came flooding back as a walked into the hairdresser, which fortunately had barely changed.

On my first visit I had collar length, dark brown, thick, lush, greasy, dandruff laden hair and hadn't washed it that morning in the shower. I'd driven myself and my mum to the department store and on a whim decided to get just a haircut, but the hairdresser and mum had other ideas. Unlike last time I didn't have to wait, seen straight away and taken to the same chair and forward facing sink where my first hair wash had happened over 20 years ago, hasn't changed, still packed on a Saturday, I was even wearing similar clothes, dark bootcut jeans and a shirt. "OK, what are we doing?" asked my middle aged barber, as he put a big black gown round me. The lush dark brown hair and dodgy mustache of my younger days had gone, replaced with thinning gray and a thick beard.   "Smarten me up, any idea?" asking his advice.

"I'll trim your beard, number 2 all over and..." while brushing his hand on top of my head continued, "a shampoo and condition afterwards." The barber had spoken, again I was getting shampooed. Last time my hairdresser, a short 5'0 woman had picked through my unkempt, scruffy, dirty hair and had pronounced to my mum "it needs a GOOD wash".   This had totally thrown me, I would be shampooed in front of the whole place, which totally unexpected to me. However, now middle aged, I took this in my stride. As the barber lent me back to trim my beard I regaled him of my first hair wash experience in this very chair, how as 2 towels were put round me, I gazed nervously into the sink in which my head was soon to be dunked.

Chuckling the barber asked "How did you feel when you were told you'd be getting you hair washed?"

"I was like... WT?!….. In front of all these people, my mum and her (hairdresser) had decided I was being shampooed and that was that." laughing as I replied to the question. He started to shave my woolley beard and I continued to his amusement.

"I remember sitting here in this very chair, feeling cocooned in the gown and towels, with my mum on one side and the hairdresser on the other and the water gushing and hissing round the sink and thinking, God she's gonna stick my head under that in a few seconds!"

Then he applied warm shaving soap to my checks and getting out a cutthroat razor started to remove the tough little hairs, stretching my skin as he proceeded." Felt on display did you, everyone watching? " he remarked with a grin.

" Definitely... I was the only one being shampooed It was like every one wanted to watch me, this lanky young lad, getting a shampoo from a short middle aged women and it didn't help my mum was right next to me standing there." He continued to shave me, I got more relaxed, nearly falling asleep as he wrapped a cool towel round my face.

Then I felt a tap on my shoulder, I was startled as the barber woke me up" OK? " he quizzed," yeah" I replied as he straightened the chair and proceeded with my haircut. He moved the shaver gently over my scalp, getting all the thinning strands off.  I looked into the sink and that feeling of anticipation and nervousness from last time started to come back. I recalled how I watched the water gush, splash, hissing round the sink. How, as she had checked the temperature, looked at my sweaty, rough, unkempt, greasy, wavy, dandruff ridden, gel laden hair and in a coy way ordered me to dunk in for a firm shampooing. Well that time had come again. The haircut was complete as he held a mirror up to show me:

"Yeah, good" I said. "Right, let's give it a wash" he said getting 2 towels out of the small cupboard he put them round me and firmly tucked them in. I glanced around was anyone else getting shampooed? Or will it be like last time, just me? Not this time. The middle aged bloke to my left was also being prepared, as his hairdresser started the water to his sink. Both of us, cocooned in our gown and towels, watching as the water rolled round the sink and gurgled down the plughole. Both of us a source of attention as other's watched on,waiting for our shampoo commenced.

I glanced over, he was ushered under, just as he reached the basin I was told:

"OK, dunk in"

Last time I had heard that I had glanced over to my mum, who'd given me a faint reassuring smile before I had bent over the sink. I'd started to bend over slowly that the she had gentle pushed me under the hose via the back of the neck, determined to shampoo me. Again I shuffled forward in the chair, bending over and as I settled my head in the sink the hose was put over my head. I felt the water cascading over my scalp, saturating it and his firm fingers rubbing it. Then I heard the pumping of the shampoo bottle, several times, as it was vigorously applied. Despite having a buzz cut I felt every part of my head was covered in soapy suds, running down over my face, over my firmly closed eyes, dripping from my nose and through my short beard. What was the other bloke feeling I wondered?   The firm scrubbing continued, this guy was just as determined as the woman hairdresser I had last time, to get every bit of grit out of my hair. So much so that I was shampooed for a second time and this was longer and firmer then the first, really rubbing it in, I could feel my scalp tinkle as I gritted my teeth and scrunched my face. Then after a long rinse the soothing conditioner was applied, more gently then he had applied the shampoo. It was cold, however, it's peppermint aroma refreshed my hair and scalp as it was rinsed away with gurgling from the plughole. The towel was put over my head and face as I was sat back up. After drying the face the towel was wrapped round my head, at the same time as the other bloke that had shared a shampooing with me.

My head was tinkling, clean, fresh just like last time. The gown was removed and I got up to pay and get a bottle of the shampoo he used.   It had been great to visit the salon again after all these years and get a forward shampoo experience again.

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