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Perms remind me of the hairdressers at the end of our street. Think of Coronation Street and the street where I was born and bred was almost identical.
Madame Edith`s was the name of the hairdressers but "Madame" hadn`t been any further than Chorley market on a wet Tuesday.
The salon was tiny, originally the front room of what was a terraced house. One sink , 2 styling chairs in front of round mirrors and 2 dryers under which her customers cooked their heads, read out of date Womens Weekly or Peoples Friend and the chairs under the dryers had little ashtrays fitted into the chair arms. The air was ripe with the smell of perming lotion, cough inducing hair spray and No6 cigarettes. I was surprised nobody ever blew themselves up or set themselves on fire.
Customers would be covered up with floral capes and various sizes of coloured hair curlers would be stabbed into place and then covered with a chiffon scarf and a snake of cotton wool wrapped around the forehead and the ears to stop the perming lotion from burning them.
None of your mixed gender hairdressing back then, in the 60`s it was a womens only environment and with the transistor radio playing in the background the women would discuss husbands, who was pregnant, who didn`t scrub their front step or wash their net curtains properly and who would be going to the bingo or the local Social Club that particular weekend.
The apprentice would be set the task of making "brews" from the kettle and tray balancing on a shelf in the corner and "Madame" would remove the curlers then wield her stainless steel tail comb and backcomb or tweak hair within an inch of its life. Her windmill arm would finish with a swirl of the hairspray tin and she`d hold a plastic mirror from side to side so you could see the back of your head.
The money went into a spring loaded wooden drawer underneath the shelf where the kettle sat and she`d slam it shut and you`d hold your breath waiting for the kettle, tea caddy or cups to wobble with the force of the slam. The 10 bob notes, half crowns and two shilling pieces were in that drawer and she meant business about them staying safe.
Then it was out with the black book, a lick on the tip of a pencil and your following week`s appointment was written in for posterity and her customers guarded their own particular time slots and hated if someone got to one first just in case it interfered with their daily visit to the corner shop, their daily gossip on their doorstep, the time to get their husband`s dinner on the table or our Jenny`s bringing the babby round for a visit.
Fond "tarras" all around and the minute the customer left the salon you could guarantee another customer would make a statement along the lines of " by heck that Doris doesn`t half think she is someone and that lad of hers will get himself into trouble mark my words .... " and usually shouted from underneath the dryer.
In Summer and in quiet times Madame and her apprentice would drag chairs outside the front door of the shop, drink their tea, smoke their No6 and watch the World go by. New babies would be admired in their prams , dogs would be shooed away from cocking their legs, gossip would be swapped and the apprentice in her mini skirt would lap up the wolf whistles from the passing factory lads.
 
I'm starting a petition to ask, beg, cajole & downright nag Vienna to write a book.
Names below, thank you.
Twilight
You can add my name to the petition for a start!

I've got a perm story, nowhere near as good as that one, but of a similar vein. In the early 80's when poodle perms had just about had their day, there was a trend to wear a shaggy perm on top of a short hair cut, it was quite an intricate style and graced all the fashion magazines of the day. I only knew one girl who'd had the cut and it looked fabulous, she'd been to the most expensive salon in town and it cost her a fortune, so for me it had to remain a distant dream. One Saturday afternoon, I'd been dragged along my fella's local pub to watch him take part in a pool competition. I read a magazine whilst I was waiting. He came over to chat to me every now and then, and of course there was a wonderful picture of a model with that hairstyle...I showed him and said I really want to get that done. My hair was just long and in no particular style at the time...He said "Go for it - I'll give you the money"...I said no it'll cost a fortune and I don't know when I'll be able to get an appointment. He said don't worry just pop to the hairdressers next door, they're never busy. It was a granny salon, so I laughed and changed the subject.
After he'd finished playing pool, we walked out and just as I'd forgotten the haircut, he pushed open the door of "Phyllis" and said (a bit drunkenly) can you cut my girlfriend's hair now? Yes dear she said, what do you want doing - before I had the chance to say "No, it's alright" or "Just a trim" young fella me lad said "She's got a picture in her magazine" I showed the lady, who was probably in her 80's by the looks of her and she said...."ooh, I've not done anything like that before but I'll give it a go"

Everything in the salon was how Vienna described it, though everything seemed to be pale blue, sinks, overalls, seats, even the fake flowers in the window. Boyfriend said I'll be back in about an hour, I might as well go back to the pub! Well blow me down, that old lady did an absolutely fantastic job, and I seriously looked as though I'd stepped out of the pages of fashion mag...That'll be £6 please!!!! Boyfriend was as shocked as I was!!!
 
Mum used to get:
Dark haired lad - I want my hair bleached blond.
Mum- Sorry, your hair won't go blond.
Dark haired lad - can you do it anyway?
Mum - ok, but it won't be blond.
Dark haired lad - can you dye over ginger?
Hairdressers' biggest secret is that they are masters of chemistry (when properly trained, that is)... people underestimate them at their peril.
 
Does anyone remember these perm machines?
I used to walk past a hairdressers on my way home from school that had women under these.
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I remember my aunt, my mum's sister saying she went to get a perm must have been pre WW11 at the hairdresser, and she was there for like four or five hours!! She always complained as my mum took after my grandad's side of the family and had thick hair with a natural kink. Aunt had straight fine hair.

The thought of having to sit in a hairdresser's for that length of time makes me shudder. I get a dry cut as I want in and out quickly. Totally hated when they wanted it washed and decided to do head massage! Because I am short the wash basin used hurt the back of my neck.
 
My perm story from the 80’s is that I went to the hairdresser with a picture of the dark haired girl from Bananarama and did the ‘make me look like that’ plea.
It was supposed to have been a casual root perm, but she cut my hair too short for that, did a full perm and I emerged looking like Queen Elizabeth the First. My fringe was transformed into one tight curl across my very high forehead.
I looked older than my mother.
It still gives me nightmares & really knocked my confidence for a year until it had grown out.
 
I imagine that I'm like most people & have had a combination of good & bad stylists. The salon I've been to for the last five years is the best one I've known & even though my girl's going on maternity leave next month the one who'll then do my hair is as good. The three stylists started as apprentices & the junior also wants to stay when she's achieved her Level 3. I love having my hair done, always have my next appointment booked & the worst thing about being locked up was not being able to go to the salon. I can understand why my neighbour lost her confidence when her hair started to fall out & even though her clip in was expensive it was worth every penny.
 
I enjoy going to the hairdresser too.
In lockdown I had to get pretty inventive to maintain a semblance of normality, like thousands if not millions of women in the UK.
I remember my gran and mum bought Deltress wigs, and of course I tried them on.
I don't have the confidence to go out in a wig, but there are many clever ways to boost what nature gave us if it thins these days.
 
The first hairdresser my Mother took me to wouldn’t cut my hair they didn’t know how to do it, it was a mass of blonde curls, such a sweet child, 70 years later things are a bit different! I then had to do to a much more expensive hairdresser and that has been the story of my life ever since.
 
Pprobably just to make life easier for her, she didn't have to spend time braiding it in the morning. The kick in the teeth came years later after my two nieces were born and she would be in glowing admiration of their long hair!
Only because dealing with it was someone else's job, perhaps.
My experience of my mum dealing with my long, fly away but plentiful locks was painful. No conditioner, just Vosene, then a comb yanked through with no attempt to rectangle. I dreaded hair day. I would have it cut short in a heartbeat, but dad was staunchly opposed.
 
Pprobably just to make life easier for her, she didn't have to spend time braiding it in the morning. The kick in the teeth came years later after my two nieces were born and she would be in glowing admiration of their long hair!
Only because dealing with it was someone else's job, perhaps.
My experience of my mum dealing with my long, fly away but plentiful locks was painful. No conditioner, just Vosene, then a comb yanked through with no attempt to rectangle. I dreaded hair day. I would have it cut short in a heartbeat, but dad was staunchly opposed.
My mum was an original thinker; she had two long-haired daughters & one long-haired cat so bought two cat grooming combs, obviously kept them in different places, & all four of us were happy 🥰 The only time the comb didn't work was when a boy put PVA glue on the ends of my plaits & welded the hair together. Ma took the kitchen scissors, hacked off the solid ends & then levelled up the scalloped edges. I went to school the next day with my shorter hair in a pony tail to be told by my friends that this meant that glue boy must now be my boy friend. I was nine!
 
When I was little I had long wavy hair but I was dreadfully hair sore especially as Mum was a bit heavy handed with the brush. Anyway I caught head lice when I was about 7 and it seems I screamed the roof down as Mum raked my head with the nit comb. She wasn`t the most patient of people so she hawked me off to the hairdressers and had my hair cut short. I never grew it long again, the longest i`ve had it since then was to the nape of my neck in the 70`s.
 
I had a long perm in the 80s while I was teaching. There was a bad outbreak of head lice in my class and unfortunately I caught them. 😳 I was told that the main reason was because I couldn’t use a normal comb to do my hair ….. I had to use a wide toothed one and so the teeth missed the little critters.

I did not bother having the perm redone and treated my hair every weekend until the perm grew out. I have never been so happy to use a normal comb! My hair is now long but I still use a comb after brushing it although I retired from teaching four years ago. I guess the “itchy” memories are still living with me.
 

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