a close shave

having your haircut in Japan is a superb example of just how good the service industry is. despite Abiko having a hair salon on every corner (it has to be seen to be believed) I opted for the wee shabby sweeny todd-esque barbers just near-by. It's the kind of place that can look a bit daunting at first (old men sitting about reading sports papers and smoking filterless cigarettes) but infact, feels quite the opposite on departure. the obligatory barbers pole is a nice, traditional touch, but as I sat watching what I was about to get, I couldn't help but wince at the hygiene in this place. after all - I was about to get very friendly with that open razor - and it didn't look as if it had seen a wash in years.

the place was very similar to 'wiggy and biggot's' on woodlands road in glasgow - (the very-kitch-without-knowing-it duo of racist and toupe-wearer) - with stylish, if tobacco stained, wallpaper, formica on every surface and pictures of nik kershaw in the window.

the experience is a great relaxant though. my japanese was enough to order a short back and sides which of course would come with all the trimmings; first your cut (there were no electric clippers in this joint); then your face steam; a shave (the fingers pulling the skin taut before the blade cuts); a little face massage; some more shaving; a little more of the top; wash of the hair; something at the back; moisturiser to face; menthol to scalp and a spray of something industrial to finish.

unlike your very feminine salons, the guy is happy to leave you in peace while you are done. the 'beauty products' were interesting in themselves - the aftershave looked like brut, the shampoo smelled like clay, the talcum powder used whilst cutting my hair (what is that for?) smelt like a great aunt and the spray he used at the end said 'aerosol' on it. all very retro, and so it's fitting that I now look like adolf hitler's brother.

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