The Hairdressers Curse.

Afternoon All and welcome to another day in the poetical life of my crazy mind.

The following poem was partly inspired by a friend of mine Tom. He is my hairdresser and today he has worked wonders with my locks. As always we spend our entire time nattering on about this and that and I took this poem along to share with him. 

I trained as and was a hairdresser, many light years ago and it frustrated me how people would walk in and demand a specific cut. Advise as you might, they could be most insistent in their demands. Crazy to try to make someone have a Lady Diana cut, when they have straight hair. Anyway, read and enjoy. Humour is the best form of therapy. 

The Hairdressers Curse

No one can know how in a hairdresser world.

How a disaster is made by the tiniest curl.

When one stray hair like a sentry will stand.

Creating frustration - for perfectionists hands.

When your clients request the latest fashion cut.

You give it your best - but there is always a But...

For your customer has nape whirls or cows licks.

Then even the grandest of trims will not sit.

So next time at the salon - cut your stylist some slack, 

Be realistic with them the next time you go back. 

Listen to your stylist in rhyme, chapter and verse. 

Don’t make yourself the hairdressers curse.

By Helen Stallard 
February 19  2014