Hair Part Of Town

Hair make is here everywhere. Rogue stylists prowl the streets looking for hairs to fix. Makeup corrections to be made. Hair and Makeup salons: "Hair Make".

There are 15 hair salons around the corner. More are in and around the shopping center. I think there is one stylist for every 20 people in my neighborhood.


I visited Joy for five years. Ikuko, who always wore black, cut my hair at Joy. Last year, she disappeared without notice. No one else there knew my hair like her, so I switched to Hair Make Ash.

I dropped in with a handful of Hair Make Ash chain flyers and coupons collected over time from my mailbox. I figured someone there could choose the best offer. All the stylists at Hair Make Ash wear headset microphones, so they can be in constant communication when treating "bad hair day" emergencies. Turning around to speak to the stylist at the next chair would break their concentration, I guess. Hair Make Ash looks like a convention of Secret Service agents with scissors.

Having my hair cut at Hair Make Ash was suspenseful. Sit here and think about the style I want. Perhaps I'd like to look at the men's hairstyles in this Japanese fashion magazine. This way to the shampoo chair - oh, you don't want a shampoo? (Screech - mumble into microphone.) Okay, sit back over here again. Roger. Ten-four. Go to this chair over here. Snip snip. Change the salon cape a few times. A good dusting, and then: the massage. (More about that later.)


After giving Hair Make Ash a couple chances, it just didn't work out. Fortunately, with so many salons to choose from, I could walk to a new place every month for the next two years.

I considered Barber Ito, but it was quiet. Too quiet.

I put the expensive places at the bottom of the list. Then I saw the red "30 Percent Off" sign at Hanamizuki. A bargain, I thought. (Later I discovered the price is always thirty percent off. The 4,000 yen cost is permanent.)

At Hanamizuki, no one wears headests. And Yukiko has been doing my hair, consultation and shampoo-free.


I speak the most Japanese during my haircut. Yep, chatting in the beauty salon. It's like a language lesson for both of us. There are certain must-have goods I get shipped in, so my stylists have learned about Splenda Coke, and the benefits of Cheer Ultra Color Guard. And I practice my Japanese comedy routine, unintentionally. So many words here sound alike! Such as "byouin" (hospital) and "biyoin" (beauty parlor).


Yukiko has more than thirty caps and always wears a cap when clipping. She keeps her cap collection in two boxes on the floor of her apartment. When she gets home, she tosses her hat into a box.

Yukiko lives between Yomiuriland and Puroland (Hello Kitty.) She's worked at Hanamizuki over ten years, since around the time the place opened.


Yukiko is getting married in Novermber. She doesn't know the name of the company her fiance works for, or what he does exactly. She cuts his hair at home and he cooks curry rice in return.

She said she gives her fiance a "special" massage.

The traditional massage when the haircut is complete!

Stylists in Japan give the customer a head and shoulder massage in the chair after the cutting finishes. The approximately 5-minute treatment is supposed to rub out the stiffness from sitting there and instill energy and stamina. It seems to work.

But I'm still not used to the switch from stylist to massage mode. My stylist, you know, she's...rubbing my neck. And I'm always afraid she'll automatically pick up scissors but start massaging. But there is a byouin nearby too.