Hairstyling goes as far back as ancient Egypt. There were hairdressers in ancient Greece and Rome. But all were at the service of wealthy men.
It wasn’t until the 1600’s—in Paris—that men began styling women’s hair. However, most women had their long hair styled at home by women servants.
The 1800’s saw the beginning of hair salons. Until then, there were mostly barbershops. A big change happened in the United States during the Roaring 20’s. Along with an increase in the number of hair establishments, came bobby pins, rollers, hair color—and short bobs. About 25,000 beauty parlors and barbershops opened.
The 1940’s saw the beginning of styling products of all kinds: hairsprays, perms, shampoos, conditioners, relaxers, perms, waxes, and gels. As we all know, the number of these “therapeutic” hair products has grown exponentially, so that in the past 20 years they occupy aisle upon aisle in pharmacies and supermarkets.
The term “salon,” was invented in the 1950’s. But for the most part, men went to barbers; women to beauty parlors. It was not until the 1960’s that the term “salon” became more prevalent than beauty parlor. Eventually, men and women began frequenting the same establishment and the term “unisex” salon was born.
During the past 25 years, the salon has expanded to provide other kinds of therapy: hair therapy, color therapy, nail therapy, skin therapy—some also offering massage therapy.
A well-known statement by Joan Crawford brings another service to mind: talk therapy. Her words, “A good hair stylist is cheaper than a good therapist,” are often quoted and merit further discussion.
My go-to person is Caroline Becker at Mulberry Hair Company on Rosseter Street in Great Barrington. Caroline opened her salon there in 2017 after moving her shop from Egremont. Describing her place, she says, “There is an upstairs and a bar where people can sit and talk. I love the feeling of a barber shop, a place people come and share and hang out.”
Caroline began her career in 1989 in London at a salon started by Raymond Bessone, also know as Mr. Teasy-Weasy. The nickname refers to his cutting technique of snipping off a “teasy-weasy bit here and a teasy-weasy bit there” and not to bouffant, teased hair, popular at the time. Bessone became Britain’s first celebrity stylist and trained the well-known Vidal Sassoon.
At Bessone’s establishment, Caroline learned that “a salon can be many things.” She notes that each of the different salons where she subsequently worked had a different culture and personality.
Caroline wants Mulberry to be a warm, discreet, and safe space. She knows that vulnerability exists for the person with wet hair, draped in a cape, who is being touched by another person. Plus, of course, everything happens while the client is looking directly ahead at himself, or herself, in a large, lighted mirror.
On one of my first visits to her place, I noticed a sign that says: “Book a Silent Appointment”.
Soon I learned that Caroline is open to providing her services with, or without, talk. Caroline stands behind her client. The client does not see her face. This makes it easier for the person in the chair to share details of his or her life—from the mundane to the personal.
Caroline is fun. And so is her Irish accent. She has spent many, many hours mastering the art of conversation. She has the freedom to say what she wants and to withhold the rest. Her experiences in life and in running a salon have taught her a lot about human behavior.
So the work begins. “What are we doing today?”
Caroline listens intently, translates and clarifies what her client is saying, and gets to work. But there is more than just the haircut, or the color, or the blow dry. There’s also “the talk.” Real conversation.
I have listened from nearby chairs to snippets about: pets, restaurants, vacation spots, hikes, weather, holidays, birthdays and anniversaries, house renovations, schools and colleges, grandchildren, sales, online shopping, dieting, and weddings.
Also, conversations about what to cook for dinner, what TV shows to watch, and how to find a contractor, or a dentist, or a doctor.
And questions such as: “Where can I get my nails done, or a good massage, or a European facial?” Mulberry does not offer manicures, pedicures, or skin care, but suggestions are politely offered.
Caroline says: “The culture of my shop is one of respect and inclusion—a place where people, whatever their gender, feel comfortable discussing their needs, as well as a comfortable space to unwind and be pampered. After 25 years of knowing many of the same clients, we share many life experiences—marriage, children, college.”
Caroline would never presume to be a therapist. But sometimes clients venture into more complicated issues: addiction and recovery, divorce, illness, work-related problems, friendship, and dating, to mention just a few.
They know that what they say will stay with Caroline. It will not be shared.
From a young hairstylist, I learned one of the first things taught in beauty school is never to engage in conversation with a client about the current political situation. Or another client. Or sex.
Beyonce got it right when she said: “If I weren’t performing, I’d be a beauty editor, or a therapist. I love creativity, but I also love to help others. My mother was a hairstylist, and they listen to everyone’s problems like a beauty therapist!”
When I moved to Great Barrington, I struggled to replace a hairstylist in Boston, who had become a friend. I looked forward to my appointments where we could speak about grandchildren, real estate, medicine, design, education, art, music, and the ups and downs of being an entrepreneur. Since my work as an author leaves me alone with my thoughts most of the time, I need a hair stylist who is good at conversation. All kinds.
It took more than eight months before I found Caroline Becker. I realize that moving to a new place is full of frustrations, but eventually you find a hair stylist who understands you. And with whom you can talk about things that matter.
Once I had weekly visits to Mulberry, my life in the Berkshires definitely became more beautiful. And so did the color of my hair!
