JAYNE SAYS THANK YOU TO HER HAIR STYLIST

Every woman I know experiences a wide variety of relationships in her life. Some, like old boy-friends and ex-husbands, are best forgotten. A few good friendships will last for decades, even a lifetime. Many relationships will be important but ultimately transient in nature -- colleagues at work, the tailor who shortens your pants, the nice clerk at the bookstore who knows what you like to read, etc.

But I submit to you that there is no relationship in a woman's life quite like the one she has with her hair stylist. Indeed, she will often have to search for years -- decades even -- for the perfect hairdresser. And when she finds him or her she will do anything to maintain and nurture the relationship, including reschedule her entire life in order to book appointments weeks, months, even a year in advance.

The dark side of the relationship is that there is no guilt like the guilt that descends upon a woman who leaves a stylist. Oh, sure, authors often feel dreadful when they leave an agent or an editor, but trust me, that is nothing compared to the emotional trauma involved when one leaves a hairdresser. Usually a woman will switch entire salons rather than switch stylists within a salon. The thought of having to face the jilted stylist month after month is just too much to endure.

A great stylist such as the one I am now lucky enough to have (her name is Alex and she does her art at the Gary Manuel Salon in Seattle, by the way) is a true artist and must be respected as such. When I go to Alex I put myself in her hands. And why not? Never in my life has my hair looked as good as it does now that I'm seeing Alex on a regular basis. I have no creative visual sensibility (the primary reason why it is utterly useless for an editor to ask me if I have any ideas for the cover of one of my books). I rely on Alex to tell me how my hair should look and I am always thrilled with the result. Yes, we talk about color and shape but mostly because I love to hear her voice her observations and thought processes. It is always enthralling to listen to an artist discuss her art.

There are many layers to a relationship with one's stylist. A unique level of intimacy kicks in almost immediately, as every woman knows. Some people take that intimacy to unbelievable lengths. I have heard clients in a salon talk about the most personal matters: divorces, affairs, problems with children, the details of the last visit to their shrink. But as a rule, Alex and I are not into high drama. Maybe we just don't lead dramatic lives. Whatever the case, we are more likely to chat about the most recent books we have read, new restaurants or recipes we have discovered or what we did over the weekend. We tend to laugh at the same things and we appear to share similar values. That always makes for good relationships.

There is nothing new about the intimacy of the client/stylist relationship. While researching my Amanda Quick novels I discovered that women in the 18th and 19th century were just as passionate about the search for the perfect hairdresser and just as desperate to keep him once he had been found. (In those days hairdressers were invariably male). And, yes, they talked to him about the most personal aspects of their lives. In letters to friends and to the women's magazines of the day ladies extolled the art of hairdressing. Some believed it to be the ultimate art form. Others pointed out the importance of the hairdresser to Society. In their view, the world as they knew it would come to a stop overnight if the hairdressers of London suddenly disappeared. They were probably right.

Today it is common wisdom that it doesn't matter whether the dress carries a high-end designer's label or if the shoes cost a fortune -- if the haircut is bad not even Armani can make up for it.

So, I would just like to take this opportunity to express my undying gratitude to Alex. Your art makes me feel good. Thanks and I'll see you next month.

Sincerely,
Jayne