At the salon in Studio City the other day, heavy metal in the air, where all the clientele were replete with piercings, studs, and foreign colorings on skin and head, my hairdresser gushed as she massaged my scalp, "Ooh, virgin hair, it isn't often that I get to feel virgin hair!" She was not referring to a filamentous change of state with a loss of innocence but to the phenomenon of black being my hair's natural color, my cuticles unclogged by dyes. Ah, I learned something. She did a fantastic job with the cut for a mere $30. I'd driven all the way from the West Side, just for her. As she was recommended to me, I, too, highly recommend Apollonia at Floyd's Barber Shop, what a deal.
Thus my first blog entry, on a self-indulgent venture tempered by restraint (with the hope at least of doing someone some good). Indicative. Let's see how things grow out. Happy 2011!
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