Behind My Chair

By Mary DeNune

The 1960s was an era of change in a lot of areas - and small town America was not immune to the challenges and changes that the women's movement brought to communities and homes - and, in this case, the hair salon. From behind her chair, Mary watched, encouraged, and loved her ladies through an important era.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Nov 24, 2015
• ISBN: 9781329455771

Book preview

Behind My Chair

Behind my chair

by Mary DeNune

A word from the author

When I was young, reading was one of my favorite things to do, and on rare occasions, I would dream of writing a book. Whether it be a drama, mystery, or fiction, I was always excited about writing a story.

I can't tell you how many times I started a story, only to put it down and wonder why I couldn't keep the story going. (It was probably because I was only twelve and there was no input from TV to stir the imagination.) So I would stop, put the journals away and go on with my life, always writing something every day (but never a story).

You can imagine, after forty years or so, what a collection I had. Most of it was about my profession. There was enough paper used for a grand novel, but alas it was just journaling.

One day, after talking to one of my clients about journaling, she said, You should write a book on what you know. But I only know hair styling, which I love, but I didn't think it would be that interesting to the public. However, after digging through some of my old journals, I realized I was wrong. As I started to read those pages, I realized how much of my life was in those journals. Not only my career, but my marriage and my life away from work as well. It took me a year to get the notepads and papers in order, and into real journals.

Behind My Chair is the title of the story from these journals. It begins as I began - in the early sixties. We were still called beauticians in those days, and doing hair in those days was totally different than it is today.

Before I go on, I want to remind you that the sixties and seventies were filled with change and unrest. There was the Vietnam war, and the riots over whether to fight it or not. There was the civil rights movement, equal opportunity, the women's movement, the deaths of J.F.K., Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and Bobby Kennedy. There were massacres at the Summer Olympics in the seventies, Woodstock, and much more. My clients were very vocal and aware of all these things, but this story is about their lives and growth through this changing time.

In the sixties there were no chain salons. However, there were alot of small shops scattered all through the neighborhoods. It was in one of these small shops that I began my career as a beautician. The salons were mostly by appointment only. Although we did all services - cuts, colors, perms, sets, and wigs - shampoos and sets were our bread and butter so to speak. Most of the ladies had standing appointments, meaning they came in every week at the same time and on the same day. There were also cllients that came in only for cuts, perms, or colors. Most of the women who came into the shop weekly knew each other from school and church functions.

Being the new girl, as well as a new operator, I soon found out that booking appointments in this small town salon was an art - especially if you wanted a peaceful and positive day. Some of these people had grudges and feuds that went back as far as Adam and Eve. By the time I had worked at Hatties Beauty Center for less than a year, I had heard and seen things that we were never taught to handle in beauty school.

I would like to say that I have loved my profession and career from the beginning, and still do to this day. The growth that has molded and shaped me into the person I am today came from experiencing the awesomeness of every person who has ever sat in my styling chair. As the years went by, I watched these people over and over conquer their trials, whether it be abuse, loss of trust, fighting cancer for themselves and the ones they loved, and the deaths that eventually happen in our lives. They always found the strength to carry on, and they showed me how as well. As time went on, they went from being my clients to my mentors, my role models, and most of all, my friends.

So, I would like to dedicate this book to all of you.

Love, Mary

Chapter 1

The time is early spring 1967, the place is Hattie’s Beauty Salon located in a small (very small) shopping center. It consisted of four small shops in one long building. The insurance office was at the end closest to the street, Hattie’s beauty shop, the barbershop, and the veterinarian’s clinic was at the other end. Down the hill on the left was the hamburger joint where I worked as a teenager, across the parking lot on the right was a gas station.

It is early on a Tuesday morning and I have to say the place looks different with all the shops closed. If I remember correctly, the barbershop and the insurance office opened at the same time as the beauty shop and the veterinarian clinic was never quiet because of the animals they boarded there.

When I had met Hattie the week before she told me I would be taking her place until the doctor gave her the okay to go back to work. However, either way she said I would work a year in order to gain the experience I needed… I said, I would love to help out and I could start right away and here I am.

As I entered the door of the little shop I noticed how well put together it was. The room it is self was large but as a salon, it was small. Directly in front of me was the small reception desk with a phone, cash register, and the beloved appointment book. To my right was the waiting area with three chairs a coffee table and a magazine rack. To my left were two styling stations with mirrors, in the corner at the end of that same wall was a potbelly stove. Lord, I hope it’s oil, chopping wood is out of the question. Next was the door leading to a tiny dispensary and bathroom. On the other side of the doorway was the shampoo area, which consisted of two shampoo bowls and two chairs. In the other corner was a small hair drying area, with three main dryers and chairs, and one portable dryer if we needed extra.

The little bell over the door rang as I entered. Hattie, a very attractive but small brunette in her early fifty’s, with an infectious smile and pleasant voice said, Hi Mary, I’m so glad you’re here early, I wanted to make sure you met Sally before the phone starts ringing.

Sally this is Mary. (Sally was a very thin tall woman about thirty, her hair was short, black, and un kept. She wore glasses, no makeup and a wrinkled uniform. I wondered why I had taken so much time to get ready. Surely the rules on dress codes hadn‘t changed that much in the two years since I graduated.)

Hi Sally it’s great to meet you. Where would you like me to put my things?

Over here by the shampoo bowels, Sally gets the front station because she will be acting mangier while I’m gone.

How long have you been an operator Mary?Hattie asked.

I got my license two years ago, although this is the first job I have had in my field, I replied.

So tell us what you know about colors, perms, and bleaches? Sally asked as she lit a cigarette. (Of course being newly licensed I thought I knew everything) I looked up to answer, and I could tell by their expressions that it would be a cold day in hell before they would leave me alone with any of their regular customers.

So I said, I know the basics. I also know I will be checking with you before I use any chemicals on the clients.

Also check the color and perm card file in the dispensary Mary. We have a file on just about everyone we do.

Okay Hattie. (I sort of wished I was working with Hattie, Sally seemed a little distant).

You will have Tuesdays off, and work Wednesday through Saturday with Sally. Mondays you will work alone, answer the phone, clean the shop and take any customers not asking for Sally.

Sounds great! I said, but I knew this was a small neighborhood beauty shop and if I did anything wrong everyone in town would know about it by sundown.

I will try to please the clients I do, and if I have any questions I’ll call you or Sally. (You could see them physically relax.)

Chapter 2

Monday morning arrived and as I opened the door I heard the phone ringing. Hattie’s Beauty center may I help you?

Yes my name is Mrs. Anderson and I would like to get my hair cut today around twelve?

I looked at the empty page in the appointment book and said, Yes, twelve will be fine. My name is Mary, and I’ll be cutting your hair.

Good I’ll see you then.

Mrs. Anderson showed up at twelve for her haircut, and that was the easy part. As I showed her to my chair I noticed she had a palsy which caused her head to shake so badly I could barely get the cape around her neck, it also made her hair a complete blur. That in turn made my hands sweat.

Mrs. Anderson is there any way you can still your head just until I get your neckline cut?

I’ll try but it has a mind of its own. She braced and said, okay go ahead."

All right, I am going to put my hand firmly on your head before I start cutting, by the time I had cut her hairline I had also cut her earlobe. She said Ouch! and I gasped and said Oh! I am so sorry Mrs. Anderson." I grabbed for a clean towel and tried to press it against her ear to stop the bleeding but it was impossible because her head was shaking so badly. I finally finished her haircut, stopping every now and then to blot her ear.

I’m not going to charge you for this hair cut Mrs. Anderson, and I’m sorry about your ear.

It’s not your fault. I have a run-away head girl, let me at least give you a tip.

Thank you but that’s not necessary, just let me try again when you need another hair cut.

You bet I will girlie. And out she went.

In those first few days my successes were few, but my experiences were priceless. The beauty school I had attended was in the heart of down town and most of the customers were totally unlike the women I was meeting in this small town shop.

On this bright spring morning, one of the cutest little ladies opened the shop door and stood in the doorway as if waiting for me to say you may enter. She wore a pretty lavender sun dress with a pearl necklace and earrings. Her hair was medium brown with soft curls that seemed to dance around her head. Her perfume wafted in threw the doorway where she was still standing, I could almost hear her say, Bippity Boppity boo.

Hi, I’m Mary. How can I help you?

Hello my name is Sadie Smith, and I came to see who would be doing my hair on Friday morning. Funny, you look harmless, but I needed to be sure you were nice, that’s important you know.

I suppose it is, but I would never do anything to your hair that you don’t want me to.

Oh I’m not worried about my hair dear.

What then?

Well I thought I would just interview you first.

I thought that odd but I said, Okay what do you want to know?

Do you ever repeat gossip dear?

Not if you don’t want me too, why do you ask?

Oh it’s just that I tend to talk about everything and everyone, but if it’s stops with you then I will feel more comfortable.

I won’t say anything you don’t want me to, Mrs. Smith.

Good then I will see you on Friday Mary.

Okay but before you go may I ask you the name of the perfume your wearing, it smells familiar?

Thank you, I call it Evening in Avon. (I was confused to say the least.)

It’s very nice, unusual but nice, I said calmly.

Thank you dear. I liked to mix my own scents, these are two of my favorites. See you on Friday. And she turned and went out the door.

I looked at Sally who smiled and said, You’ll get used to Sadie she’s really sweet she just tends to wonder in her thoughts, as well as when she walks or drives.

What do you mean exactly? I asked.

The Smiths own a lot of property around here, and last summer Mr. Smith finally fenced the whole thing, and made walking trails all through the acreage.

You mean for safety?

Sort of. You see, when Sadie starts out on her walks she sometimes forgets to turn around, and by the time Mr. Smith finds her she’s sitting alongside of the road too tired to walk back home.

She told Hattie she was thrilled when her husband fenced her in because now she can walk all she wants and never leave home. Those are her words, not mine, Sally said.

I’m going to love getting to know her, are all the regulars like her?

Hell no, you just wait. Some days you’re going to think you’re on another planet, Sally said as she lit a cigarette.

I had been working at Hattie’s for three weeks and Sadie Smith still confused me, but we got along very well. One Saturday in April as I was washing her hair she said, It’s so nice to be able to trust you not only with my hair but with any secrets about my friends and neighbor as well. You know Mary it isn’t just gossip if I tell you, because you are a professional and all.

If you say so Sadie, but you really don’t say anything about anyone that I couldn’t repeat. You’re really very nice.

Thank you dear, I didn’t want you to think I was boring so I made some of it up, and I just couldn’t make up mean stuff about my friends. Laughingly I said, You still confuse me Sadie Smith, but I love your funny way of thinking. Then she said, Don’t forget I’m coming in Thursday next week for my hair set.

I remember Sadie and I’ll be here. As we closed for the day Sally asked me why Sadie was changing her day to Thursday.

When she gets a perm she likes it earlier in the week so she won’t smell bad in church on Sunday, I replied.

I don’t know why I even ask, I knew it would be some quirky reason. Night Mary see you next week.

Night Sally have a good weekend.

Monday and Wednesday were uneventful, so Thursday morning as I was getting ready for my day, the bell over the door rang announcing my first client.

Hi Sadie

Hello dear am I to early?

No I’m ready to start you, but as I approached her, I could smell something putrid, and having been raised on a farm, I couldn’t tell what animal it came from, but it definitely had to do with manure. Not wanting to lose another client I quietly said, Mrs. Smith do you smell something odd? Maybe you stepped in something on the way in?

Oh no dear, I didn’t step in anything, you must be smelling my chicken manure poultice for boils. I have it under my arm. It works like a charm and it only takes three or four days. I know it smells a tiny bit, but the other way is so messy, as well as being rather painful.

I wanted to ask what the other way was just in case I ever got a boil, because a chicken manure poultice would be the very last thing I would use. How often do you have to use this method Sadie?

Oh, about once or twice a year. Of course I make it for my friends now and then as well.

Lord I hope I don‘t ever do two or three of them at the same time. I couldn‘t even imagine the smell. Sadie all by herself when she starts to sweat while under the dryer will draw flies.

Friday mornings were always busy in a salon. Hattie’s was no different. Mrs. Jones, Sadie’s cousin, a small plump lady in her late forties with dark brown hair sprinkled with a gray that set off her soft eyes, showed up a half hour early.

Hi Mary I thought because Sadie was here yesterday I would fill her spot today, you didn’t fill it did you?

No Mrs. Jones I didn’t fill her spot so I can go ahead and start now if you want. Just hang up your coat, and we’ll get started. She didn‘t look like Sadie, but she definitely thought like her.

‘I wanted to get here a little early so we could talk, there are things about me you should know."

Really? About what, your hair?

No about my personality actually. Number one, I giggle when I get nervous, number two, I love all the latest styles, including big earrings and rings but I never wear them to church, because of my age.

"What does your age have to do with what you wear to church?’

Nothing, it just doesn’t look churchy to me.

I knew if I asked her any more questions I would get even more confused.

I finished setting her hair and was putting her under the dryer, when Sally came in looking for a fight. I was starting to realize she was an out spoken, risk taking beautician with an attitude.

Hi Sally are you okay, you look worried?

Worried and pissed.

About what? I asked.

Oh about money, seems like there’s never enough to go around. At that moment the door open and a blonde lady walked into the shop.

"Shit, I’ll get it, hi, can I help you?’ Sally asked.

I would like to speak to the manager.

I am the manager, do you want an appointment? She looked like she needed a good conditioner, something that wasn’t invented yet. Her hair resembled hay. I personally thought she was bleaching it herself at home.

That’s what I’m here for, if you’ll give me one. I want a perm, and so far no one in town will give me one because I bleach my hair myself at home. I must have called a dozen shops today. Do either of you girls perm bleached hair?

I can perm you, Sally answered.

"Have you premed bleached hair before?’

Many times, I have been doing hair for ten years.

What about you? Miss Hay Hair asked looking directly at me, but before I could say no never! Sally said, No she’s new and still learning.

And learn I did, As I watched Sally go to the appointment book I thought , she’s doing this for the money. That woman’s hair is in bad shape.

I can do you right now if you have time?

Great let's get to it.

As Sally shampooed and then wrapped the perm Miss. Hay hair asked ,How many times have you done a perm on bleached hair?

Not a lot but enough to know what I’m doing’

Mary would you mix the bleach perm solution for me ?

Okay it’s two to one right?

That’s right and bring some extra towels for her head too please. (Perms were still one size fits all in the sixties - alkaline - so for bleached and tinted hair we mixed two parts solution to one part water. I personally thought water alone would be too strong for that hair. My stomach knotted, the solution was applied, the timer was set and the cast was set.

Just as I got Mrs. Jones out from under the dryer, Miss. Hay Hair’s timer went off, and Sally took her to the shampoo bowel to rinse the solution off, then she applied the neutralizer. Since my station was next to the shampoo area I heard Sally say I‘m going to leave your head tilted back so the neutralizer won’t drip into your eyes."

Okay, how long do I have to stay here?

Only five minutes or so.

Mrs. Jones asked, Mary is that the lady that came in as I was getting under the dryer?

Yes it is Mrs. Jones.

"Is she getting a perm?’

Yes she is.

Umm.

We heard it again, Umm... drifted up from the shampoo bowl.

Just then I heard a clink, clink. It sounded like porcelain perm rod hitting a cast iron shampoo bowl.

I looked at Sally, and Mrs. Jones said, Is your sink making that noise Mary?

Clink, clink.

I turned and peered into the shampoo bowl, just as Miss Hay Hair said, My hair better not be connected to those rods.

I quickly nodded at Sally who looked a little green as she walked over to the shampoo bowl. In the mean time Miss Hay Hair sat up and a rod landed in her lap with her hair stuck to it.

You bitch! She screamed at Sally.

Mrs. Jones jumped, and said Young lady! as she looked at Miss. Hay Hair, then she said in a weak shaky voice, Oh my something has gone terribly wrong with her hair Mary.

Not now Mrs. Jones, I said as I watched Sally take out the rods with hair melted right to it. My knees got weak and my stomach actually turned, and I really didn’t think there was any solution to this mess. I was still just standing there watching, when Sally screamed at me to call Hattie.

It was then that I noticed that the shop was starting to fill up with people from the other shops. All wanting to see what was causing all the shouting.

As I went to the phone Mrs. Jones started to giggle in a nervous manner and on top of that I could barely hear over the swearing and name calling going on between and Sally and Hay Hair.

You are a poor excuse for a beautician, and I’m going to have your license.

Hattie this is Mary.

Yes Mary is everything all right?

I’ll sue you and own this shop!

If you weren’t too cheap to have your hair bleached in a salon this would not have happened.

Mary what’s going on? I can hardly hear you for all the screaming?

I think you need to come to the shop. Sally can you talk to Hattie?

I’ll talk to Hattie!

Oh no you won’t! shouted Sally over hysterical laughter from Mrs. Jones. And the fight was on for the phone. Miss Hay Hair grabbed the receiver from me. Hattie said, "What the Hell!" Sally grabbed her arm and the receiver flew out of hay Hair‘s hand and hit Sally in the eye. Papers were flying everywhere. The appointment book hit Sally‘s other client in the head. The phone became a weapon between them. I moved just in time to catch my roller cart..

Watch out Mary don’t step on her hair it’s starting to cover the floor, Mrs. Jones laughed.

Do you think this is funny lady? Hay Hair snarled at Mrs. Jones, who laughed hysterically as she shook her head no. I stepped between them thinking, I have never been in a fight in my life, what do I do if she tries to hit Mrs. Jones, who was still giggling behind her towel. When I looked at miss Hay hair I realized why. The more she moved about the more her hair fell out. Some broke off, and others were hanging by a hair (no pun intended.)

Hush Mrs. Jones, you're hissing, but she shook her head and just laughed harder and higher until she started to sound like a dog whistle. And this made the animals at the vets clinic start howling.

Finally she got control of herself and said, I’m sorry Mary but all the fighting makes me nervous.

It makes me want to throw up but that will just make things worse.

Not really dear the shop is already a mess, and Sally looks like she’s losing the battle, I think maybe we should help her.

Just look at my hair! It’s all falling out you bitch - you won’t have a license when I’m through with you!

‘Now, Now , young lady it’s your fault after all."

Mrs. Jones, be careful, she’s upset.

Just how do you figure lady, Hay Hair sneered as two more rods slid slowly down her neck on to the floor.

Well your hair was in bad shape to begin with, and you practically begged Sally to give you a perm. Mrs. Jones tutted.

Yeah! And look what happened!

Yes but you gave her a black eye, so that makes you even.

Says who!

Says me, Hattie said as she came through the door. Then she looked at the mess her shop was in and all the people standing around watching the fighting going on and said, Shit! Sally help me take the rest of these rods out of your clients hair. Mary will you help clean up the shop a little, and I would like the rest of you people to go back to what you were doing before this started thank you.

As I was picking up the magazines Mrs. Jones said, I’ll help you clean up Mary but I have to say I’m glad Hattie got here when she did. I think Miss. Hay Hair was going to turn on me.

You shouldn’t have said anything Mrs. Jones, she has a right to be angry after all.

Yes I know but I’m opinionated as well as nervous, so I chatter a bit when I’m not supposed to. (Great first hysterical laughter and then opinions, what next?)

We watched as Hattie examined what was left of the permed hair.

I’m afraid all I can do is pay for any treatments you may need or a wig until your hair grows out.

Miss. Hay Hair was crying now, but shook her head in agreement.

Mary could you cut her hair while Sally and I set up a schedule for her hot oil treatments.

I don’t want that bitch to touch my hair again.

Mary will you be willing to work her in on Mondays for the treatments.

Yes of course.

Thank you that will help a lot.

As I rang up Mrs. Jones' bill she asked, Will you be able to help that woman’s hair at all?

I have no idea, but I’ll try.

Wait until the girls hear about this, I still can’t believe she hit Sally in the eye with the phone.

Her hair must be very important to her? I said.

If that’s true she shouldn’t have been bleaching it herself at home.

True, maybe we’ve all learned a lesson from this today. See you next week Mrs. Jones.

Chapter 3

All was quiet and back to normal until Friday morning when Sadie came in for her shampoo set.

Hi Sadie how was your week?

Okay I guess.

Is something wrong ?

"I’m not sure yet but as soon I figure