LURE OF THE "WAVES"

New Zealand Listener, Volume 2, Issue 52, 21 June 1940, Page 42

LURE OF THE "WAVES"

HE squirt of a water faucet, the soft soapy splash of lather, the clink of bottles, the steady hum of drying machines — snatches of words-and over all the peculiar cloying smell of setting lotion. I moved my head a little to escape the heat of the drying machine. From the cubicle next door came a spatter of conversation: "But my husband is like that, he’s so flighty that I can’t trust him out of my sight with another woman. He’s bad tempered at home, too, that’s the worst part of it. He nags at the children and treats me like a bit of furniture about the place. ..." A few minutes later the attendant came in, switched off the machine, and started to set my hair. "In Strictest Confidence" I met her eyes in the glass. Hers were still faintly amused. "You'll excuse my curiosity," I said in a whisper, "but is that lady next door a friend of yours?" "ye never seen her before in my life. Funny, isn’t it-they insist on pouring out their most intimate secrets." " Embarrassing for you, at times?" "Well-in a way. But we hear so much that it would be impossible to remember everything. It just goes in one ear and out the other." "It must be an interesting study in types," I said. "Oh, intensely so. Everyone is different, and many of them are extremely entertaining. If they have to talk I’m always grateful when the subject is an interesting one."

Perms For Men "Do you ever have any gentlemen clients?" "Quite a few-mostly for scalp treatment. I have, though, done two or three perms for men-and quite a number of tints and settings." "Permanent waves?" I echoed. "It seems incredible. I always thought that vanity was a feminine weakness." She smiled demurely. "We know better." "What about children?" "Oh, we get lots of children both for settings and perms. My youngest customer the other day was two and a-half years of age. She was extremely interested in the performance." She looked at me thoughtfully. "You wouldn’t, by any means, be trying to interview me, would you?" "TI would," I answered meekly. "I was just about to warn you."

She laughed. "TI was getting suspicious. Oh, well, as long as you don’t name me, I don’t mind." Each One Is Different " Good," I said. " Now I can fire away. Another curl round my ears, please. Tell me about your work; I always think it is such a fine career for girls. It is so artistic and gives you an opportunity to express yourself." She agreed with me. "You see, every head is different, and often it is left entirely to our own discretion to experiment with new styles." "The new Edwardian style is attractive, don’t you think?" "The nicest in years-though it looks best for evening wear-not during the day or office hours. It really requires someone to do it for you." "Don’t you think the elderly woman takes more interest in her appearance these days?" "Undoubtedly — and as white is my favourite colour in hair, I’m all for it. Some of them are very shy when they first come to have their hair waved or

permed. They usually excuse themselves by saying that their daughter-or their niece-or somebody-insisted on their coming, and that they merely wish to humour them." "How long have you been doing this work?" "Eight years. When you have been studying six months you are qualified to take a position as a Junior, but it takes from eighteen months to two years to become proficient. But actually you are always learning-there is always something new-that makes it fascinating. Easy When You Know How She pressed another wave into place. "Tt looks so easy," I sighed, " but that, of course, is only an illusion." "Well, more or less; like everything else, it’s easy when you know how. I remember, I first learnt water-waving and marcelling on a switch of hair pinned to a-board. I used to do it so beautifully. Then came my first real head of hair, and everything I had learnt was promptly

forgotten. I suppose I was too anxiousI made a horrible mess of things, and was almost in tears when the instructor rescued me-and finished the job." Listening-Free of Charge I looked at the slim figure reflected in the glass, trim in her white frock, her dark hair faultlessly waved above her clear tanned skin. I sighed. ‘ "There’s one compensation — you always look beautiful in this job." "We try our best-we’ve got to be an advertisement for the work we profess to do." From the cubicle next door came a confiding whisper: "So I said to her, if you minded your own business instead of other people’s, you wouldn’t be always getting into trouble... ." The assistant and I exchanged a conspirator’s glance through the glass. "|. and she said to me-well, that’s my business."

I stood up and surveyed my smoothly waved coiffure. "Thanks," I said, "it looks very nice. You might note, incidentally, I have not made one single confession." "You haven’t had time," she laughed back. I’ve been doing all the confessing. When you feel like it, though, just come along, and I’ll do the listening-no extra charge." I promised.