THTooLongDon'tRead

Last week I was at dinner with friends. I was seated next to Luca Gelli who was 8 or 9 years old when I studied in Florence. He is a handsome man of 50-something now and as we visited over dinner, I noticed that his hair was perfectly cut and styled. At that point I was just shy of one month since my last haircut at home and I asked him where he had his haircut. I may have wondered aloud if there was any possibility they could trim about 20 years and 15 pounds along with all the shagging edges and bulky corners that had grown in the preceding weeks. Luca gladly shared the name of both the salon he goes to and the stylist he works with. He did clarify that the cost was higher than the average run of the mill men’s haircut in Florence. It seems to me that the amount he pays is less than many precision cuts in Seattle.

The best part of the story is that with the topic raised, Luca waxed a bit about how long he had been going to Claudio at Domina Hair and Style Firenze. He was seventeen when he first started getting his hair cut there. Several of us were trying to mentally do the math to determine that he has been getting his hair cut for about 36 years. Now that is a good long track record for any professional relationship of any nature. I think that Luca was a tiny bit struck by the longevity of his relationship with his barber. I know I was. 

A few days later as I am trying to shellac my hair into some semblance of order, I realize that it is indeed time for a cut. I have been singing the praises of my quiet little neighborhood and I have several times passed by a little two chair barbershop near my local grocer. Two days ago I popped over in hopes of getting in for a cut without any pre-planning. While the gentleman was pleasant, he was already booked for the afternoon and offered me a slot the next day. I jumped on the 9am slot and noted my calendar. 

After confirming some haircutting language on my Google Translate app, I managed to overcome my fear of entering the barbershop and asking if I could cut their hair. Those reflexive verb structured sentences will get me turned around every time! I arrived promptly and announced myself as “Teem” the name I had left for the appointment. Both barbers were present and the older of the two greeted me and gestured for me to take a seat. I told him it had been a month since my last cut and that I trusted his judgment as a professional. As we began, his colleague stepped out of the shop and we were along to make small talk. “Sei tu Maurizio?” I must have mumbled, because he didn’t hear me and asked me to repeat, “Are you Maurizio?’ I repeated in Italian. “No, io sono Luciano. Maurizio è il mio collega.” I had Luciano and his colleague is Maurizio, after whom the shop is named. Da Maurizio Acconciature–hairstyles by Maurizio…seems like a fancy name for a classic down to earth barbershop, but here I am. 

Before Maurizio returned, Luciano proceeded to tell me that Maurizio came to work for him 40 years ago at the age of 15. He started out doing whatever needed to be done and eventually began cutting hair and when it was time, Luciano sold the shop to Maurizio. Now, Luciano works when he wants to and in the mornings. I told him how much I loved the story and how infrequent this sort of story seems these days. He agreed. He continued telling me how well he has come to know Maurizio over the past forty years and that he really considers him like a son. “É veramente il mio terzo figlio.” I am not sure if the goose bumps were a result of the heartwarming story or because four weeks of hair had been shorn from my pate. I am prone to claiming the former over the latter. 

At one point Luciano asked me where I was from and I told a bit of my story. I explained how I had studied in Florence 45 years ago and that I return frequently. He complimented me on my 

Italian…a compliment I have yet to learn how to accept gracefully. While the haircut was probably only slightly longer than my monthly conveyor belt service at Great Clips, I was impressed with the detail and precision use of different razors and blades that Luciano used to cut my hair. His station was orderly and tidy and when he brushed the loose hairs from me he did so with an authority wielding a sturdy bristled brush that was more efficient than most. At the start I had considered asking if he could make me look 20 year younger and 15 kilos lighter but instead opted for asking him to “fammi apparire il migliore possibile” (make me look my best). 

At the end of the haircut I could tell I would like it, I got up, grabbed my coat and asked how much it would be. Immediately part of me realized that this would have been an appropriate question to ask much earlier in the scheduling process, but, as I like to say, whatever the cost, I am worth it! I had prepared by bringing cash in the event that they had a preference over the use of credit or debit. I was prepared for anything in the low triple digits. Quindici euros. Fifteen eros. I even got change back from my twenty! Along with my change Luciano also handed me a card with the contact information and hours of operation. I happily replied that I would be returning for Luciano likely within a month. 

About fifteen minutes after getting home from my haircut I received a text on Whatsapp from Luca Gelli. His message was a link to the contact information and address for Domina Hair Style Firenze. Just the fact that he remembered that I had asked, and followed through with sharing the information makes me appreciate what a thoughtful and kind person he is. Even though I had just had my haircut by Luciano, I did follow up on the link to Domina and even found the information on the notable Claudio. If Luca was 17 when he started going to Claudio, judging from the photo on the webpage, Claudio must have been about 20! Now, I am not saying there is some Dorian Gray shit going down at Domina Hair, but it does convince me that when it comes to hair, everyone has a story. I am not sure how this one will end.