Thursday, May 08, 2008

Hirsutes you, sir


So I went for a haircut. In the same place as I have for the last 10 years or more, Mr Topper's £6 Haircut (though frankly the place hasn't been the same since it stopped being Mr Topper's £5 Haircut a few years ago and they just rounded out the circle in the '5' on the sign outside with a bit of coloured paper). As even those of you who haven't had the pleasure of being shorn by the big green frog in spats and his multilingual assistants might guess, it's not exactly Toni and Guy. In fact, if the man behind you was wearing a bloody apron and wielding a meat cleaver, you wouldn't be over-surprised.

But this time there was a sign next to the mirror giving prices for men who wanted to have their "eyebrows resculpted and tinted". And beneath that - I swear I'm not making this up - was the offer to have "upper lip and chin waxed."

Now hang on just one cotton-plucking minute! That's the sort of thing you used to have to go to Transformations on Eversholt Street to get done!

Combine that with the boy I walked into work behind this morning who'd obviously spent longer on his straightening tongs than I had on the entire commute, and the advert above a urinal in a City pub I was in recently advertising a special electric razor for shaving "intimate areas", and I start to come over a bit Kelvin Mackenzie. It ain't natural, I tell thee.

Personally, I blame the heterosexuals.

2 comments:

Professor Sapient said...

Personally I blame capitalism, which homosexuals are just as happy to support as heterosexuals, but either way - its just plain wrong. I remember in the first ever Dalek story on tv the Thals were all preened and plucked and I imagine that's what men will end up like in 50 years. After of course they cure fatness (says me! being more than pleasantly plump. Ok, now i am getting geeky. Off to shave me privates.

Anonymous said...

I was sitting in a beauty salon in Marylebone waiting for the beautician to start my pedicure, when next to a display of bottles filled with lurid liquids, I noticed a poster that said, 'Get your betty ready! Colour for the hair down there!' I blame the teachers for over-use of exclamation marks.