Amidst a large space encrusted with Marilyn Monroes - magnets, posters, photos, glazed porcelain and a road sign, I was sat in an historic (and very comfy) barber's chair, quietly awaiting its next victim.
I'd been happy with my raggedy bob - a collaborative effort between a cautious hairdresser nervous about too dramatic a cut on elbow-length hair, and my friend Matt, unqualified as a hairdresser but skilled as a woodworker and cabinetmaker. What I'd hoped for from Vicki, was a shampoo, scalp massage and hip trim but what I got was something that made her coo with delight and me to hide my grimace at my new hairdo's niceness and conventionalism. Toni had the same battle on the other side of the big, central mirror. We both wanted more jagged styles - must be an architect thing.
I also decided to indulge in an eyelash tint to save on mascara, which can run in warm moments of tango or hot weather. Warning bells should have rung when Vicki kept saying "eyebrown tint" instead of eyelash. It soon became evident that she'd never done eyelashes before. What I ended up with was a permanent version of the running mascara. I ended up with lower eyelids and a few token eyelash hairs (maybe 5?) stained a soft brown.
Toni and I left Mirror Images feeling sleeker, tidier and only slightly lighter of pocket and more amused and delighted by the experience in the hairdresser than with our new looks. A few days later in Eugene, my sleek new 'do' fitted in perfectly on the tango dance floor. Neat bobs seemed all the rage in the younger tango-dancing scene. Noone could match my lashes and lids, though.