The Hair Cut to End it all.

Never close your eyes in a hairstylist's chair. NEVER. Especially so when the hairstylist does not speak the same language as you.

So 2 days before, I went back to the same Japanese hairstylist at St. Mark's - St. Mark's is little Jap town so there are alot of funky Jap salons there. The first time round that he cut my hair, I came away rather satisfied. Considering that I had told him what I wanted via a translator - a translator who also seemed to be second guessing what I was saying in English - the outcome was quite palatable. I actually liked it.

Thus, this time round I thought that just by saying 'Same as last time', he would have known what I wanted. So as the guy proceeded to work on my hair, I closed my eyes and took a short rest. That was the biggest mistake that I could have made that day.

When I opened my eyes and put on my glasses, what I saw almost gave me an instantaneous panic attack. My hair at the side was completely gone and I had something like a mushroom cloud at the top of my head. The hair at the back, which previously had a subtle undercut, was now a full fledged, muscle flexing punk's undercut. I felt like I was going to suffer a heart attack right in the hairstylist's char.

"This time round, I give you, cut , MORE Fashion-able" the hairstylist said in his Japanese accented English, while smiling to himself and gesturing around my rock-punk of a head. My gosh. Yes, it was fashionable, but also extremely not 'Same as Last time'? I touched my hair at the sides, agonizing at the amount of hair that was sheared off. It didn't help that I didn't know how to tell him how to fix it - because of both the language barrier and the fact that I didn't even know if there was any more hair left to be fixed!

Without knowing how to fix it, I left the place after he had done all his waxing (After the wax, the haircut looked sort of ok, but my my, the haircut WITHOUT any gel would have just been horrendous) and went home to mope at my weird-ass hair.

This is how the hair looked like at the back.
DAMN WEIRD RIGHT????
Like a tuft of hair sticking out of nowhere.

So Liangyi met me the next day before we had dinner with Yuki, and that horrid, unfeeling cousin of mine said I looked like I had some sort of disease, with hair dropping off in patches all over my head.

"Do I know you? What did you do with my cousin?" were her words when she met me at the lobby of Palladium.

So upon her insistence, we went back to that place to get it fixed.

Lucky for me, the previous hairstylist was on off and an african-american guy attended to me.
Ahhhh. This time round I sorta knew I was in good hands because the guy pinpointed what he thought I had wanted prior to the haircut before. While gesturing at the back of my head in a V shape, he said, "You wanted a soft mohawk, fitted in at the back right?". Touche! Exactly what I was thinking of the first time I went to the salon.

So yes, he started working on my hair , 'traditionalizing' and 'normalizing' it with quick cuts here and there. When the 'Surgery' (as he had called it himself) was all over, my hair, though superbly short, was more acceptable by my standards. Nothing too 'Fasiona-able' and nothing too radical.

Though it still has a weird shape because of how the guy cut it previously, at least I dont have to worry about having to wax my hair everyday before I step out to at least look normal!

Do you see how short the sides have become?
It's an out-of-army haircut now.
Back to square one.

Ciao!