Showing posts with label stylist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stylist. Show all posts

Monday, December 19, 2011

Chapter 8


Francois was one of five hairdressers who worked for Streaks, a midsize hair salon that catered to both men and women.  It was a luxurious salon; with gold gild framed mirrors, shiny black marble floors, black granite counter tops, plush red chairs, and photos of gorgeous men and women showing off stylish haircuts.  Soft music played in the background and beverages were served in either porcelain cups or tall crystal glasses.

While Betty enjoyed a cappuccino, Jessie was shown the way to the washbasin. Jessie loved having her hair washed by a professional.  She loved the way strong fingers vigorously scrubbed her scalp, and  gently massaged in the conditioner leaving her head tingling with freshness when a soft warm towel completed the cleanse. .

“What can I do for you today?” Francois asked, standing behind Jessie’s chair, running a comb through her hair.

“To tell you the truth I don’t know,” Jessie said with a shrug of her shoulders.  “I feel like a change, nothing too drastic, but something that will give me a new look.”

“Why don’t we try something simple yet sophisticated like this one?”  Francois pointed to one of the photos on the wall.

“Bangs?” Jessie said with a voice full of doubt.  “I haven’t worn bangs since high school.”

“Not full bangs,” Francois pointed out.  “Wispy bangs, it would suit you.”

Jessie wasn’t sure, but trusted Francois’ judgment.  She’d been to see him twice in the past year and he had never ill advised her.

“Okay,” she said, “let’s try it.”

“Let's add a few layers?” Francois suggested.  “See how the model’s hair is long but full of body?”

Jessie took another look at the picture.  The model looked gorgeous with her layered hair and bangs, but would it work for her?  Still, she wanted a change and so she had to take a chance. 

“Let’s do it,” she nodded.

Francois got to work.  He combed and snipped, combed and snipped, and Jessie could see the transformation taking place.  With a look of appreciation she turned her head from side to side and a smile slowly formed on her lips.

“You like it now, but wait until its blow dried,” Francois said, noticing her smile.

“Yeah, when you blow dry it, it probably will look amazing,” Jessie agreed, “but will I be able to maintain the style?”

“If you want I’ll show you how,” Francois volunteered, then proceeded to show Jessie where to place the brush and how to use it. 

“Wow,” Jessie sighed when he was done.  “I look…”

“Gorgeous,” Francois finished the statement.

Pleased that she had followed Francois’ advice Jessie got out of the chair and walked to the lounge area where Betty was paging through a fashion magazine.

“Ta-da,” she sang.

“Wow!” Betty gasped. . 

“Do you like it?” Jessie asked, flicking her hair off her shoulders.

“Like it?  I love it!” Betty breathed in admiration.  “You look like a bloody beauty queen.”

Jessie blushed with embarrassment and attempted to shush her friend. People were looking at her.  One of them was, an extremely handsome man.  He smiled and openly stared at her.  She recognized the man as Jack Garrett.  She knew who he was as she often saw his name and picture in the entertainment section of the newspaper. 

The nerve of some people, Jessie thought, but was pleased with the attention all the same.

 “Okay now it’s your turn,” she turned to Betty

“Oh no, I can’t afford his prices,” Betty argued.

“It’s my gift to you,” Jessie insisted.

Half an hour later her friend reappeared.  Her hair washed, fluffy and freshly trimmed. 

While Jessie was paying, Francois suddenly appeared at the counter.  “Would you be interested in having your picture taken?  Your visit would be free of charge.”

Jessie’s pen hovered in midair over her cheque book.  “Excuse me?”

“I said” repeated Francois, “would you be interested in having your picture taken?” Then with a sweep of his arm, “It would go on the wall with the others.  It’s my way of marketing my work.”

Jessie was momentarily speechless.  She had assumed that all the pictures on the walls were of professional models.  Now if she was to believe Francois, they were of ordinary people.  They were beautiful men and women, gorgeous in fact, and he wanted her to be one of them!

“So what’d you think?” Francois said.  “A few pictures at no charge to you and your visit today would be free.”

The money wasn’t important.   She was simply overwhelmed to be asked to be up there with those beauties.  Then again, money was money and she needed every cent.  “Can my friend join me?” Jessie asked, knowing how important it would be to Betty to be included. 

Francois inclined his head.  “I don’t see why not.”

Francois handed her a card.  “Go to this photographer and tell him I sent you.  He’ll know what to do.”

“Do we go now?”

“Whenever suits you.”

“But if we don’t go today our hair won’t look as good anymore as when you styled it,” Jessie reasoned.

Francois disagreed.  “Your hair will always look good.  I gave it a good cut, easy to maintain.  As long as the hair is clean the pictures will look beautiful.”

“You sure you don’t want us to come around for a quick styling?” Jessie asked.

Francois nodded.  “You can if you want, but there’s really no need.  You will do a great job yourself.”

After Jessie and Betty had left, Francois turned to the receptionist of the salon.  “Who’s my next appointment?”

“Jack Garrett,” Candice said.

“Jack Garrett?” Francois breathed with surprise, “The Jack Garrett?  The talent agent?”

Candice nodded.  “Isn’t he just to die for?”

“Keep it quiet,” Francois instructed.  “No need to announce that Jack Garrett is here.  The last thing we want is for people to spontaneously burst into song to impress Mr. Garrett, and that includes you.”

“No need to worry about me,” Candice said under her breath, “I already have a date with him tonight.”

Friday, December 2, 2011

Chapter 6

“I don’t know about you but I’m bushed,” Betty sighed as they left the shoe store.

“Oh me too,” groaned Jessie.  “I feel absolutely drained.”

Betty’s laughed.  “I’m sure your bank account feels the same way.  What’d you say we go for a cup of coffee? I’ll buy.”

Dividing the packages between them they made their way to the Villa Capri, where they sometimes had breakfast before a shopping expedition or lunch after a shopping spree. Sometimes they just went for a quick cup of coffee and were usually enticed by the desert menu.

But the way to the restaurant was obstructed with all sorts of temptations.  Clothing boutiques, a jewelery store, a card and stationery store, a store of fine porcelain and crystal, and Jessie couldn’t resist looking at everything.  There was no way Jessie could afford the clothes in the boutiques, the jewelery or the porcelain and crystal, but she still liked to stop and look.  It drove Betty crazy.

“Jessie, it’s coffee time,” Betty groaned, “I thought you said you were bushed.”

“No, you said you were bushed,” Jessie turned away from admiring a diamond ring.  “I said I was drained.”

“Well, then show a little compassion and let’s go to the restaurant so we can sit down and have some coffee,” Betty pleaded.

“Alright, alright,” Jessie nodded. 

But her good intentions only lasted until the next boutique, where she just had to admire a jacket.  She didn’t go inside, Jessie limited herself to just window shopping, but it still made Betty impatient.

“Jessie, coffee!” she demanded again.  “I want … correction, I need a cup of coffee and I need it now!”

“Okay,” Jessie agreed, and without any more interruptions they made their way to restaurant.

At Villa Capri a waitress handed them two menus, but Jessie waved them away.  “Two coffee’s please,” she ordered, “and two pieces of cheesecake.  And oh,” she added, “could you hurry please, my friend is having withdrawal symptoms”

The waitress, who recognized Jessie and Betty as regular customers, nodded her understanding with a smile.  People could easily go for hours without bread, fruit or sugar, but let nobody take away their caffeine.

Awaiting their order, Jessie and Betty surveyed the restaurant.  It was shortly after one o’clock and the place was packed.  The mall had three restaurants, but this was by far the most popular.  Jessie guessed it had something to do with the Mediterranean atmosphere.  The dusty blue painted brick walls decorated with bright colored clay plates complimented with elaborate flower arrangements that spilled from huge planters, and the rustic tables and chairs.  The fast, friendly service and excellent food probably had something to do with the popularity too.  Soft music and a buzz of friendly conversation and laughter filled the air.

When the waitress returned with their order, Jessie and Betty wasted no time.  They simultaneously added two packets of sugar to their coffee along with one tub of cream and then took that all important first sip.

“Aaah,” Betty sighed with satisfaction, “there’s just nothing like a good cup of coffee.”

Jessie nodded her agreement.  “The cheesecake isn’t bad either.”

For a few seconds they sat in silence, enjoying their coffee and cake. 

“So are you finished shopping?” Betty asked.

When Jessie shook her head, Betty rolled her eyes.  “Where are you going to drag me now?”

“The drugstore,” Jessie said.  “I would like to look at some make-up.”

“But you never wear make-up,” Betty protested.  “Not even when we go to a club.”

“I know.  But this is the reinvented me,” Jessie pointed out, “and now that I have cute outfits, I’d like to fix my face.”

“But you look nice,” said Betty.  “You don’t need all that stuff.”

“Betty,” Jessie said slightly sharper than she had intended.  “I’m twenty-two years old, and my make-up consists of a pink lipstick and brown mascara.  I think I’m ready for a bit more.”

Betty nodded.  She didn’t agree with her friend, but she could understand her.  “Alright then,” she said, “If you want to do this, you should do it the proper way.”

“And the proper way is?”

“Certainly not a drugstore,” Betty said.  “Go to a beauty salon, let one of the consultants take a look at you, and advise you on the right products and colors.  Or even better … ask for a makeover.”

“A makeover.” 

Jessie liked that idea.  She’d seen people in magazines who had the before and after treatment, and they always came out looking beautiful.  She would be able to see what colors worked for her and how to apply them.  “Let’s go,” she said, already sliding out the booth.

Betty made a grab for her arm.  “Don’t you think we should ask for the bill and pay first?”

“Of course, of course,” Jessie reached for her wallet and put twenty dollars on the table.

“Twenty dollars for two cups of coffee and two pieces of cake?” Betty questioned.

“Not enough?”

“Far too much if you ask me.”

“Oh what the hell, I’m in a generous mood,” Jessie dismissed the issue.

She was so excited about the makeover, but when she arrived at the salon she suddenly got a severe case of cold feet.  She took one look at the brightly lit room, with its mirrors and bottles, and perfectly groomed ladies in white coats, and knew she didn’t belong there.

“Go on then,” Betty gave her a gentle push.  “Go in and make an appointment.”

But Jessie stood rooted to the spot.  “I can’t,” she whispered.

Betty didn’t understand.  First her friend had been all excited about the beauty salon and now that they were here she wouldn’t go through the door?  “What’s the matter?”

“I can’t do this,” Jessie said.

“Why not?”

“Because … because…”

“Because what?”

“Because … they’re going to take one look at me and laugh behind my back.  Let’s just go.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Betty admonished.  “Why would they laugh at you?”

“Because I’m ugly.”

“No you’re not.”

“I am,” Jessie persisted. 

“No you’re not.”

“Okay, maybe not downright ugly, but I’m certainly not pretty.  Look at me, my hair is out of control and my clothes are shabby and my shoes…”

“Okay, okay, I get the picture,” Betty nodded.  “So you’re not exactly looking your best today, but your clothes and shoes don’t matter, they’re gonna take care of your face and hair.  And you are beautiful.  When you came out of that change room wearing the new outfits you were a knock-out.”

“Really?”

“Would I lie to you?  Now come on, go make the appointment.”

Jessie looked at her friend in desperation.  She dearly wished she had Betty’s classic good looks.  Betty had a perfect heart shaped face, big blue eyes, a dainty nose and rosebud mouth.  She looked every bit like a Scandinavian beauty queen.  Not to mention her straight, smooth silver blond hair that fell like a silken sheet to the small of her back.

“Move it,” Betty urged.

“Alright, alright,” Jessie sighed.  “But you have to come with me.”

Like a lamb being led to the slaughter, Jessie approached the beauty salon.

Can't wait to read the whole story?  Voice of an Angel is available on www.amazon.com