I recently got my haircut at a nameless salon in Chinatown. After getting off the subway at Grand street, which is a traumatizing experience in it’s own right, I walked past fish markets and Vietnamese restaurants to a tiny, hole-in-the-wall hair salon.
The salon, which was recommended by a fellow fashion editor, was actually more of a barbershop. I’m not sure the last time the floors had been swept and I suspect they washed my hair with hard soap. After waiting for an hour, I was finally seen by the infamous Peter. I told him that I was growing my hair out, so I didn’t want him to take any length off, but I wanted a change. He promised me that after he was done working his magic, my hair would look longer than before. And truth be told, it did. Not only did it look longer, it looked great- long layers with lots and lots of movement and volume.
One of my bffs, Vivian, articulated exactly why it’s so amazing. It’s similar to, but not quite, The Rachel (from Friends), as Vivian said “it’s the almost-Rachel”.