Small talk has long been a part of any trip to the hairdresser, but more salons are now offering a silent option when booking.Small talk has long been a part of any trip to the hairdresser, but more salons are now offering a silent option when booking.
I’ll give the truly fragile/overworked/shy out there a pass. The rest of us: how much effort is it to be friendly to a stylist? How mortifying would it be to have your fringe trimmed after requesting they keep their traps shut. What makes you think they want to talk to you anyway? About “going anywhere nice”, or anything else. As if anyone on God’s sweet earth is interested in the Mykonos all-inclusive you booked when you were tipsy a few weeks ago.
To my mind, the silent haircut catastrophises an everyday interaction. It’s a low-end version of the urban myth of Tom Cruise ordering co-stars not to look him in the eye. It also gives men the excuse to humblebrag about their cheap haircuts and naturally taciturn barbers. By comparison, salons are an oasis of no-frills minimalism. Traditionally, they represent escape , but also a kind of levelling. There’s a certain brand of unspoken feminine camaraderie to be found among the highlighting foils.mentality creeping into the egalitarian arena of the salon. After all, this “silent treatment” goes only one way: down the class ladder . There’s a hierarchical “lower orders” energy to it: “I don’t have to talk to you, so I won’t”.