End of an Era

I was going through some of my old haunts today. Things change all the time and a couple of groups I belong to on Facebook often post pictures from the area many years back which are interesting to see or even remember but today I passed a place and realised an era had come to an end.

When I was a wee lad a friend of my mum used to cut my hair, and once he moved on to the big barber shop in the sky I used to visit a salon of hirsutedness over the road, but rather than cut my hair the way I wanted they would cut it too short. This was the 70s and short hair was very old hat. They would style your hair and indeed, it looked like a very old hat. Boom Boom as Basil Brush would say.

Come 1972 my Grandma got remarried and I needed my hair marginally cut but styled. My dad said "why not try my barber" so off we trotted to Dave the Barber. I was 16 and needed to have my hair tidy enough for parents to approve and long enough that I could get into trouble at school thereby maintaining some sort of street cred.

Whilst this was taken a few weeks later, here I am, resplendent with longish hair.

Whatever happened to that young lad about town! My mother insisted I should have some "portraits done" at a local photographers otherwise no evidence would exist.

Anyway, so lasted a relationship with Dave until last year. When I approached the age  where I could reverse the figures above and Dave decided to retire.

All through those years, although I occasionally had to use other barbers Dave was my number 1 man. He was the man who changed my styles for 40 years as hairlines receded and thinned.

The last time I went, around a year ago, resulted in the following.

A somewhat shorter, greyer, style than when he started. And yes, that is The Magnificent M!

Today I drove past the shop and, although still a barbers, it was modernised. No more pictures of 1950's styles with brylcreemed models looking wistfully into the distance. The old style red leather chairs with the board that went across for the kids to sit on. His Wanted Poster that his kids had bought him one Fathers Day. The bay rum, brylcreem, rubber puffer full of talc for the back of your neck, all gone.

I hope the retirement is going well and you've got a place in Italy to holiday in even if you aren't living there. After 40+ years I must have paid you enough money to at least enjoy a bit of your new found freedom!