Hair Cutting Adventure

So, the last time I had a haircut was right before I left for Japan, so it's been a while. Plus, you should all know of my love of hair dye, and it's left my hair a bit damaged. Annoyed with the knots, and kind of terrified it's falling out actually, I went to get a haircut. Saki went with me for moral support, second opinionating, and translating duties. She's a really great friend.

I went to Conte, which is on the second floor of Aeon, the local デパート("departo" basically it's a mall.)

After being super politely ushered in, the receptionist took Saki and my things and put them in a locker. Then we got to sit in a little sitting area with lots of magazines about hair and style. The people even pulled the chairs out and pushed them in for us. A little awkward for me, as I feel super heavy and not coordinated when this happens. The stylist came over to talk about what I wanted which Saki translated. I was pretty much unhelpful to the cause at this point in time. After it was all painstakingly decided and I was quite nervous, a cute little dude (assistant) came over to wet my hair.

So, in America, if they're going to wet your hair, they spray you with the little bottle of water and away you go. Here, I was escorted to the little room where they wash your hair, and seated. I got a blanket on my legs, a plastic cover around my neck and a white square on my face (that kind of made me feel like a dead body. Maybe they don't want to be stared at?) All this so he could spray some water in my hair.

After my hair was properly wet, it was toweled off, and I was led to a comfy hair cutting chair, the blanket promptly placed back over my legs. Perhaps their clients get cold? I have no idea. The assistant painstakingly combed my hair out, in which I feel a little bad for him, as my hair gets crazy knotted when wet. When it was knot free, the actual stylist came over and went to work. Saki went over to read some magazines in the chairs leaving me and the stylist to awkwardly attempt conversation about where I was from, what Japanese food I like, and where I've been in Japan. After that, we just quit trying. After a while, Saki came back over and with her mad Japanese skills, we had a little mini conversation. It was good fun.

 The combing of the hair!

 Actual cutting!

 Progress!

 After the cut was finished, I was escorted back to the sink area to rinse my hair. Why? I don't know. But I got my blanket, neck towel, plastic cover, and face square back, and this time a hot towel under my neck which was lovely. I also got a cute towel turban after it was rinsed. Keep in mind, no shampoo or conditioner was involved at any time. So random.

 Towel turban and towel scarf = cutting edge fashion.

In my lovely towel turban, I was led back to my hair cutting chair. There the little assistant man announced it was massage time, and proceed to give me a fabulous scalp and shoulder massage. Even if every thing else had been horrible, this would have made it totally worth it. Halfway through he asked "いたくない？" (Doesn't hurt?) which I understood! Amazing! The answer was no of course. He seemed impressed by my awesome taste in massage strength, but maybe that's just me. After he finished I was draped in another plastic poncho. Then cute little assistant man proceeded to painstakingly comb out my hair. It took at least 15 minutes. He divided it into minute sections and gently worked the comb through. Perhaps he was taking to long, or maybe it's how it usually works, but then my stylist came over and finished combing for him.

 The oh so thorough combing.

After my stylist finished combing, he switched back with little assistant man who started to dry my hair with that same precision that he combed it. Partway through, my stylist came back and and tagged him out so he could dry my hair. They switched 2 more times. I thought it was an excessive amount of hair drying myself, but whatever floats their boats I suppose.

 Ta-da! It's dry!

When finally finished and sprayed and such, we were told to sit back in the chairs in the waiting area, and my stylist brought our bags out of the locker, which was right next to the reception area. Then we could stand back up and go pay. I find it amusing that we had to sit for 30 seconds for this to happen when I could have just as easily grabbed the stuff out ourselves. Actually, it probably would have been easier for all involved since I was awkwardly pushed in again, and they had to fumble with our nonsense. Then I got to pay while my stylist looked on and bowed, and I tried to juggle my belongings and bow and pay at the same time. I'm just so coordinated. Tipping is a no-no in Japan, so I hope my stylist felt my love anyway.

 Finished product!

The top guy was my little assistant man. The bottom was my stylist. He's a captain! Whatever that means.