Pressed and Trimmed by CleanCutTieGuy

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I met Kevin online and we really hit it off from the beginning. We were different people, but with a lot of the same interests. He had a great sense of fashion, and I, who grew up in a fairly poor family, had none. I was blessed with thick hair, and he had started balding in his early 20s.
Kevin’s job required a uniform of dress pants, sports coat, and tie. He looked great in it. I liked that he took pride in his appearance and enjoyed dressing up daily. My job had a less defined dress code. Nobody wore jeans, and some guys wore ties.
Kevin eventually started spending more nights than not at my apartment, which I enjoyed. He was an early riser and would meticulously iron his clothes for work every morning. At first, he ironed whatever I picked out for myself. Soon, he’d finish his own ironing before I got up and would pick out my clothes for me. No matter what combination he picked, he always included a tie.
One morning, while putting on the tie he picked, I said, "I like what you choose for me, but ties aren’t required at work."
He asked, "Do any of your coworkers wear ties?"
"Some of them, yes."
"Does your boss wear a tie?"
"Every day."
"Then dress for the job you want. If it were up to me, you'd be in a sports coat and tie like me every day."
I laughed. "If I had a sports coat, I would."
"Okay, but not with that haircut. You should think about taking care of that."
"I know. Next Friday is my day off. I’ll probably get a haircut then."
The following Thursday, Kevin asked, "Is tomorrow still your Friday off?"
I said yes, and he replied, "I can finish work a little early. Want to meet up for a late lunch?"
We picked a time and location. I had only a couple of errands that day, one of which was a haircut.
By the time I got up Friday morning, Kevin had already left for work. I went to my closet and noticed he’d already picked out and ironed clothes for me: dark blue Dockers (his favorite) and a blue and white striped button-down. I remembered our lunch plans and got dressed.
Most barbershops I’d tried weren’t great, which is why I waited so long between visits. I revisited one that had closed and reopened under a new name. I parked and noticed only one guy inside.
As I walked in, the man popped up and said, "Welcome to my shop. I’m Jason."
He brushed off the chair and gestured. "Have a seat."
He placed a crisp pinstripe cape over me. "On your way to work today?"
"No, it’s my day off. Just running errands."
"Oh, well, you look like you are headed to work."
"I’m meeting someone for lunch. Didn’t want to look sloppy. Which I do, hence being here."
Jason laughed. "You’re halfway to sharp. I’ll handle the rest."
Usually I awkwardly explained how I wanted my hair cut. But Jason was different.
"Looking to go shorter today?"
Kevin liked short hair, though he rarely mentioned it. I was curious what I’d look like with a short cut.
"I’ve had this style for a long time. Thinking about going shorter. Got any suggestions? I want to look good, but I’m clueless."
Jason lit up. "I thought you were headed to work when you walked in. If you usually wear a shirt and tie, a clean businessman cut would work. Most younger guys wear a shorter version now. I can show you."
He pulled out his phone and showed me a few photos. He recommended one that was a lot shorter than I normally wear. My time with Kevin has seemed to brought on the urge to change things up.
"Sure," I said. "We can do that."
"It’s a classic. You won’t be disappointed."
He carefully combed my hair. "You’ve got a lot of thick hair. Definitely overdue."
He picked up clippers. "Ready?"
I nodded nervously. He ran them up the side of my head. Hair fell in thick clumps. He worked quickly, methodically, making multiple passes with shorter guards. More skin showed than I expected.
Noticing my concern, he said, "Don’t worry. It'll look sharp. Haven’t had it this short before?"
"Not in a long time. I started dating someone who likes shorter hair. I like him a lot. Thought I’d try something different."
"Meeting him for lunch today?"
"Yes."
"Now I get the outfit."
I laughed. "He picked it out. I usually wear jeans and a T-shirt."
As he clipped away, I wondered—was I doing this for me, or for Kevin?
He wet the hair on top with a spray bottle.
"So, does your guy know you’re doing this today?"
"He mentioned I needed a haircut. Pretty sure he’ll be surprised. He’s in the ‘shorter the better’ camp."
"He’ll be impressed."
He snipped off the top, combed it forward, trimmed above my eyebrows, then created a sharp part. The comb raking across my scalp was oddly relaxing. He blended everything, then used clippers to cut in a hard part.
After applying some product and carefully combing it into place, he turned me to the mirror. The reflection surprised me. It was closer to military than business. The product he applied cemented the hair in place and gave it a nice shine.
"That is different for me. Good choice." I said.
He smiled. "Went a little shorter since you said he liked it that way."
He finished with a straight razor on the edges. As I stood, I touched the stubbled back of my head and saw the pile of hair on the floor.
"It’s a big change," Jason said, "but you look a lot more professional."
"Thank you. This is exactly what I needed."
I left a generous tip and headed to lunch.
...
"Wow! You look fantastic. What made you go that short?", said Kevin with a big smile.
"I desperately needed a haircut. I wanted a change. Maybe your influence. I told the barber you liked short hair. He took it from there."
"You didn’t have to do that for me—but I’m really glad you did. You even wore what I picked out."
"You ironed it, so I figured there was a reason."
"Just something I wanted to see you in. Looks even better with the haircut."
He reached over, touched the back of my head, and smiled. "I hope you keep it like this."
After lunch, he took me to a men’s clothing store and bought me a navy blue sports coat. He said every man should have one. I wondered if it was just a gift, or a gentle nudge toward helping me look my best.
Six weeks later, I returned to Jason for the same cut. When summer came, he convinced me to get a high and tight skin fade. At first, seeing myself nearly bald was jarring. But Kevin loved it. I kept it through summer.
A year ago, I wouldn’t have recognized the guy in the mirror. Now I wear chinos and button-downs instead of jeans and T-shirts. I stand straighter. I feel more confident. I don’t know if I became more myself, or more like Kevin.
Maybe it’s the same thing. Either way, I like how I look—and especially how he looks at me now.

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