Zokka

Listening:　Cosmic Night Run -満漢全席仕様-, Crazy Ken Band feat. 野宮真貴 and m-flo
Listening: ありがとう, SMAP [It's the song of the moment, and it's stuck in my head.]
Reading: The Crimson Petal and the White, Michel Faber

In all honesty, I've been reading more interior design books than actual literature, but Michel Faber tells a good story.

[This post is for Alli.]

Since the start of midterm preparations at school, my days haven't been filled with many thrills beyond dinner with the Miki JETs at Fujiya (Yum Yum Strawberry Tart.) or drawing up my weekly Japanese television drama schedule, but last night brought a special rush of joy into my life . . .

October 18, 2006 marks the day of my first haircut in Japan!

I met up with the Akashi Girls in Okubo at Zokka, a hip salon discovered by Lena, where Heather and Kelly were already in the hands of the young and very cool 店長 (Head of Store, or in this case, Head Stylist). Stepping through the doors, the receptionist tucked my coat, scarf, and purse into a locker for which I received the key. I waited in the reception area with Lena, where we munched on matcha Pocky as I nervously leafed through hairstyling magazines, wondering how much I could possibly change of my already short haircut.

I was soon directed into the grooming area, where the 店長 (His name is actually 犬飼　大) ran his fingers through my hair as we discussed what would subsequently be happening to it. I fumbled with my weak hair vocabulary in an attempt to say, "Please make me pretty." I'm definitely not a girl who concerns herself heavily with her hair (Do I own a blow dryer? No.), but fouled-up haircuts are difficult to hide from in the mirror. I just prayed that our communication lines followed through.

店長 cut my hair dry using a razor through my layers, and I happily commented on feeling the weight lifting from my head. He laughed, and like all stylists, expressed amazement at the thickness of my hair. In the beginning of the ordeal, I sat with fingers clenched tightly onto the chair arms, nervous about the shaping of the style. As 店長 progressed, however, I felt much more at ease, as he moved slowly and carefully through each layer, gently explaining in the meantime how I could tame my frizzies and style my hair into a softer state. I in turn apologized for my lack of hair care knowledge and tried to make small talk to the best of my Japanese small talk abilities.

After my cut, I received a shampoo from a rather silent female stylist, whose job, I'm assuming will be to shampoo and blow dry clients' hair for the next few years of her training. As she lathered my scalp, I remarked on the fruity fragrance of the shampoo ("あ、いい匂い！"), to which she provided no response, and I subsequently shut up. Her role may have demanded that she utter nothing further than questions such as "Is the water too hot?" As we stepped down from the wash-and-rinse stage (the back wall of which featured an enormous movie screen), I heard a chorus of "おつかれさまでした。" (Literally "You must be tired," this phrase is most often used at the end of the workday.) directed at me. Japan can be quite weird sometimes.

Back in the hot seat, I received a head and neck massage (Amazing.) while waiting for 店長 to finish up with Heather and Kelly. 店長 applied more delish-smelling styling goodies to my hair, and I received a blow dry from both him and the shampoo girl. 店長 explained further how to most effectively dry my hair (Direct the heat down from the top of the head.) and tousle my style into a chic, I-just-naturally-look-put-together look. At the end of my mixed hair excitement and fear, I wound up with a haircut that I'm incredibly happy with. I'll definitely return to Zokka.

At the cashier, we all received 20% off of our styles owing to it being our first visit, and my bill came out to 3600 yen. I bought serum from 店長, in the hope that it will indeed make my hair as magically soft as he did, and throughout the entire transaction, he acted with the humility and gratitude that one would never see from a head stylist in America. Looking cute and in high spirits, we ate dinner at a nearby ramen place (with very genki employees) and did some shopping at Vivre before heading home.

Ahh . . . if only every day could be Japanese Haircut Day!

I suppose if that were so, my hair would be quite short. For those wondering, the picture of my new 'do will have to wait until I take a cute one.

はい、お仕舞い。