An Apprentice Needs Help

by Wannabe Ginger

 

Part 2

 

It had all gone according to plan. In the days since I had spent an evening with the three girls, Karen, the hairdresser's apprentice, and her friends, Ginger and Margot. With college down for the summer break, there was plenty of time to see them and to make occasional reference to the way things had been between us. Relaxed, at ease, playful almost. Karen's practice for her new job had gone well. She had done two excellent wash & blow-dry treatments for Margot and Ginger. Their long hair had been wonderfully done. And she had done a wash & roller set on my hair. My much shorter hair. My boy's hair. She had taken photos of us all, including my rollered stage that was quite unreal, thinking about it.

It was all to give her experience for the new job, in advance. I had willingly volunteered to have my hair washed and dried. Little did I know that the outcome would be my having more than twenty rollers wound tightly into my hair and narrowly escaping having coloured setting mousse used to fix it in place. As it was, I had watched in the mirror as the rollers went in, as my hair was dried, and as the curls they produced were combed out – backcombed, really quite hard, to leave a smoothed style that rose up from the crown of my head. The curls were disguised in the backcombing, but it was hardly the style I'd expected when I had agreed to take my part in the evening. It had been fun. There had been an occasional lapse into role-playing – the customer and the stylist; making up thoughts of what would be said between the two; how long I had such a style, had I ever thought of growing my hair much longer, had I ever changed its colour? I had answered yes to most of the questions; they seemed the logical answers to give.

They had made me think.

As I had gone home later that evening, as I had showered, as the water had swept away the curls that had taken so long to create, as it eventually went on to remove the style and all the lacquer that held it all in place. I regretted its effect. I went to sleep that night, knowing that I would make sure that we did the same again, and soon. What would those photos look like?

I had walked home that evening in the dark, wondering what would be the reaction at home if I was seen by my parents. I made sure I wasn't! Straight in and up the stairs, shouting "I'm off to have a shower!" I wish I had just gone to bed, savoured the whole evening some more and woken in the morning – to have the inevitable shower. That would be my plan next time – to savour and enjoy the look of myself in the mirror – to focus on the enormity of the change in myself. To imagine what it could turn into….., next time.

I had taken a real 'shine' to Karen – and her wonderful Pageboy bob, shiny and straight, curling under at the ends and framing her face. I had admired Ginger's beautiful red hair – how much it was a natural red, and how much it was assisted, I couldn't tell. (She has said she used the colouring mousse, so it wasn't all nature's gifts, that was for sure). Her hair was much longer and, being thick and strong, fell around her neck in glorious waves of red. Then there was Margot. I couldn't make my mind up about Margot. Her hair was plainer, fair and straight, with much less body than Ginger's or Karen's. Even so, it looked lovely when Karen had finished styling it. What I couldn't decide about Margot was the way she was often smiling at Karen, in a kind of suggestive way… almost a "come-to-bed" way. Surely not. Margot was also the one to intervene when there had been discussions about what to do with my hair – I recalled it vividly:

"…..the agreement was 'Whatever you say' and so I don't think you have much choice in the matter. I think you have to stay until Karen has done whatever she wants to do with your hair". She looked hard into my eyes and clearly meant it. She turned to Karen, saying "He's all yours".

And I was.

But that was a week ago. I had seen them all individually and sometimes together or in pairs. We were no nearer setting a date for the next time to "help Karen". She hadn't asked, but then, nor had any of the rest of us. Perhaps she didn't want to call for help too much. Perhaps she was waiting for one of us to volunteer. Well, I reached a decision: today was the day to suggest it – would it be a repeat of the last time? Quite probably – she would want to do that.

"What a great idea!", said Karen when I brought the conversation round to "another evening like we had before, with Margot and Ginger". "It was very helpful, and we did so much in just one evening. Was it alright for you, really?", she asked, smiling that smile again. "I mean, you didn't feel it went too far?"

"Whatever you say" was what I agreed to", I answered – "That was the deal we made – I agreed to turn up and have you wash my hair. It had to be dried, so that was part of the deal. After all, there wasn't much to my hair - so the drying wouldn't take long. …..Or so I thought!". I laughed. "I didn't expect to wind up, wound up like that!"

"But it was OK, was it?", Karen appeared concerned. "No, no, it was cool – or rather it wasn't too hot, like you asked about the water and the dryer through the rollers", I made light of the experience, even though, just talking about it made me smile and get a quite warm feeling that I couldn't quite explain.

"There are some extra things I'd like to practice, if we do it again", she said.

"Like what?", I asked "Same for all of us?", wondering what she had in mind.

"Well, not quite, because your hair's a lot shorter than theirs is – though it's grown even in the last week. I thought I'd set their hair in different ways. Margot could have a lovely sleek French pleat – you know, where the hair is swept off the face, smooth around the sides and into a roll at the back, with the top backcombed strongly to give it height. If she were willing, I'd love to put some highlights in to brighten up the colour of her hair." She had it all planned, I could tell.

"…so what for me and Ginger?" I had to find out what she had planned.

"For Ginger, a set on the biggest rollers I can get into her hair… to allow me to dress her hair like for an evening ball – "Big Hair", they call it. It would make the most of the colour, don't you agree? – and I need practice in doing that".

"Whatever you say", I answered – "That was the deal – we all agreed - so, what do you have in mind for me; the same as before?"

She smiled that smile again.

"Well, like I said, there are some extra things I'd like to practice, if we do it again", she said. "Your hair isn't long enough to do great fancy things with - yet – so we have to make the best of what we have".

"Yet???", I thought and then realised I'd said! "Yet???".

"You heard", said Karen "There are some extra things I'd like to practice, if we do it again", she said. "…..the agreement was 'Whatever you say' and so I don't think you have much choice in the matter. I think you have to stay until I've done whatever I want to do with your hair". She looked hard into my eyes and clearly meant it. "You remember Margot saying "He's all yours".

I did.

"So what do you have in mind? You still haven't told me.""

"Ginger's last words that evening: "I'd like to bring the coloured mousse next time". I need to try setting lotions and mousses and things like that – and if it adds a little colour, well, no harm done, it washes out quite easily and quickly. And, as your hair has grown a lot in just a week, I could use some bigger rollers, to give more height – it would look cool!"

"Will the colour show a lot on my hair - it's a nothing sort of colour really – what would it be like?" I asked, half of me scared of the idea, and half of me thrilled – more time close to the is increasingly gorgeous woman.

"The colours are as subtle or as bold as you choose. It's all a matter of choice. We could use Ginger's mousse from home, whatever colour that might be, and we could use one that you could choose for yourself. But that would mean your going to the shops and choosing. There are hundreds to choose from."

"Would you think a red was best?" I asked, tentatively.

"Probably, it would be, because you can't go blonde with your colour, without something permanent – and I did say "Your hair isn't long enough to do great fancy things with - yet – so we have to make the best of what we have".

"You keep saying "yet"…. What do you mean by that Karen?" I had to ask.

"I mean, this was good for a first time – I hope there will be more. And it sounds like we've got another one soon, at least, that's all".

"So, not blonde?"

"No, not at all……. Darker brown, like mine, is OK but it's not very adventurous, is it? And you could go darkest, darkest black – you can even get "blue black" products that are really cool…… the blue highlights are really cool…… But I think red would be best for you. And there are plenty of reds to choose from."

"Ginger's hair is adorable" I said, involuntarily. "It's a real head-turner when you see her in the street". I paused for thought. "I don't think I could get anything near that, could I?"

"It all depends – why don't you go and see what's there in the shops? The pictures on the packs of the products you can buy are really quite life-like. Honest. If you've got any doubts the staff will be happy to help you".

Karen was seriously suggesting that I go to the beauty counter and ask about these products. And maybe, just maybe, I might.

We agreed on the next Saturday evening, provided that Ginger and Margot could make it. They subsequently agreed it was ideal. Ginger even remembered that she had offered to bring the colouring mousse when I called to ask when would be best for her.

"Remember??, I said, "I'd like to bring the coloured mousse next time" It was meant then, and it was meant now. I quite fancied the shopping trip that Karen had suggested but Ginger had clearly not forgotten her wish.

"Tell me about it, Ginger", I asked "Tell me just how red it will make my hair and how much like yours…. Your hair is beautiful".

"Thank you", she said. "Your hair is like a blank canvas – there is a very basic shade on which almost any colour will take very well; not like mine; mine is red and red alone; I could go blonde, but when I last did that, it ended up carrot coloured. If I ever go blonde again, it will be what they call a "Strawberry" shade – almost peachy/pink". But that's a professional's job. When I add colour myself, I darken the red, making it much richer. They call this Auburn."

"Would it suit my hair, with the 'nothing colour' base?" I asked, almost knowing the answer, but getting an unexpected tailpiece to the message. "Beautifully", she answered. "I'll bring it along and we'll try it – see how you like it. You might even end up wanting to stay this colour".

The next couple of days, until Saturday, dragged by very slowly. My mind wandered often to what was in store. I hadn't seen Margot, so had no idea of what she was thinking but expected she'd just go along with Karen's plans. I ended up not being able to resist "window shopping" in the beauty department of the local department store. It's one of those places that, unlike a supermarket where you're left alone to make your choices, you get pounced upon by immaculately made-up women of a "certain age". I certainly got my treatment from one such lady. She was a redhead herself – quite a striking woman who just shouted confidence.

"Can you find what you're looking for?" , she asked, after I'd been staring into the ranges of hair colours for what seemed like hours – probably a minute and a half! What could I say? "I want a non-permanent colour, in an auburn shade" was all I could think to say - it had been on my mind ever since I had talked with Ginger….. that was what I did want. Non-permanent. As red as can be!

"It's for you, I presume?", she asked

No beating about the bush with this one… she could tell it was for me… useless to say otherwise. "Yes, it is, a really bright colour, but not a permanent one". I said.

"This is what you'll do best with – everyone starts with a product like this one – called Harmony – it's very easy to use – No, it's not a mousse – if you want a mousse, you'll need something like………….. this!" She pulled a small aerosol can from the lower shelf. "That will give the bright colour you seem to want, and not last long at all – perhaps that's what you want." She was taking control, I wasn't going to get away without buying something! I just knew it.

"Look at the range of Harmony colours… there's all sorts there……… there are several reds – there's natural light auburn - rather ginger that one; and copper, and there's natural dark auburn - that's redder and really quite attractive; there's mahogany – that's much darker brown with deep red; then, there's one called burgundy – which is how it sounds- a deep dark red wine colour…… or there's aubergine - that's a darker shade too, but it's almost a purple overtone. So many to choose from – specially for someone like you that's, well, trying things out for a first time?

"Yes, a first time……."

"If I were you, I'd go for the Natural Dark Auburn – it's a really sexy red and glows really warmly – you'll love it. It'll last a bit longer than a mousse, but then, you're not going to worry about that, are you?" She almost mocked me, daring me to say I couldn't handle the colour lasting for 2-3 washes.

"OK, that one it is….." I said and paid up quickly.

"Would you like some special shampoo for coloured hair?" she added. "Not likely!". She was quite a scary woman really, now I come to think about it.

Her identity was revealed when we met for the "next time".

The "next time" came around quite quickly. The evening was arranged. Back to Karen's home, like before. Just the three girls and me, like before. Karen welcomed us all in one by one; this time I wasn't the last to arrive. Margot had been there just for a few minutes. "You must be the guy that met up with my mother in the beauty department…." said Margot, almost as soon as I saw her. "She talks a lot about customers she meets in the beauty department and they don't get many guys asking for advice."

"I was hardly asking…… " I said, "… it was more like she pounced on me while I was just looking….." "Ahh, 'just looking' – that's what they all say the first time, she'd tell you" was Margot's answer.

"Oooh, do show me what you've bought" Karen exclaimed. It wasn't that exciting, a very standard shop-bought colourant really – nothing to go wild about. "It's so cool that you went to this extent – you're really a honey!", she exclaimed. Good enough for me, I thought, if she's thinking better of me for something quite so simple, I could go for this in a big way. There was no doubt, Karen was getting all the more attractive to me, the more she went on about how helpful I was being. Maybe Ginger in particular, was a more stunning girl to look at but….. "Hmmmmm."

I'd lapsed into thoughts like this when Ginger arrived – all excited. She had run the last few yards, knowing she was a bit late. "I'm really ready" she puffed, "…it's just that the bus was late after I had to go back home to get the mousse I'd promised to bring – remember???" she looked at me eye-to-eye and winked with a smile.

"Who's going to go first?", asked Karen. I found myself suddenly aroused –there was no mistaking the feeling – but was it for the closeness of Karen, or Ginger – more so than Margot - or was it for the simple thought of what was to be done. I'd enjoyed being last "last time" - so I answered first… "My turn first, 'cos I was the last when we got together first time." There was no disagreement. "Will you have the colour you bought?" asked Karen, "…or will you prefer Ginger's mousse? That's a setting mousse so it will help the style….. and will you have the rollers again?….. and can I backcomb it just like before…. your hair's got longer, it should look great!".

"Whatever you say", I answered – "That was the deal – we all agreed".

"Then I say ……. The mousse, the rollers and the backcombing!" said Karen.

"And what about us??" said Ginger and Margot – almost together.

"I thought I'd set your lovely hair in different ways. Margot, you could have a lovely sleek French pleat – you know, where the hair is swept off the face, smooth around the sides and into a roll at the back, with the top backcombed strongly to give it height. One day, if you were willing, I'd love to put some highlights in to brighten up the colour of your lovely fair hair. It would add lots of body."

She had it all planned, I could tell.

"…so what for Ginger?" I had to find out if she'd changed what she had planned.

"For Ginger, a set on the biggest rollers I can get into her hair… to allow me to dress her hair like for an evening ball – "Big Hair", they call it. It would make the most of the colour, don't you agree? – and I need practice in doing that".

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Ginger. "I could feel quite sexy like that!"

"You'd look very attractive like that; very 'lipstick'… if you know what I mean." Interjected Margot, who hadn't said anything about her own coiffure.

"Let's go for it, then", Karen said as she launched me towards the washbasin, "but let's take a photo each stage, can we?". Of course, snap, snap, snap! Soon my hair was wringing wet again, darker in shade as before, and the water was as hot as before. The same stylist/client chatter ensured. "The mousse, the rollers and the backcombing! – are you going out somewhere special tonight?" Karen asked her client. "Let's make it very special!". "To do that, I need to trim your hair and get rid of all of these split ends – it will make your hair much softer and it will grow much faster." So, out came the scissors and, sure enough, she trimmed and trimmed all over my head, removing very little but shaping the hair all over.

The mousse was an amazing colour when Karen put on a pair of latex gloves and took a handful from the aerosol and spread it all over my head. The light above my head seemed to make it twice as vibrant as I'd expected. "Wow!!! – will that be the final red????". "…..will it stain my skin???!", I cried.

"No, no, no! The chemicals show up that way and it's a marketing gimmick I'm sure – the colour on your hair will take on the natural shade of your own hair and that will dampen it down…. A little!" Karen reassured me. I wasn't to know until the drying had been completed just how bright the red colour on my hair was to be.

The red strands of hair were wound on the rollers – beginning with the larger ones than before, arranged around the crown of my head – winding back from a point further forward, I thought. There was a real lift in the way the style was going in – still with a parting to left and right but I could tell, this was different. The rest of the rollers went in rows around my head – again, more than twenty. Then the drying had to de done. But not before another photo – with my hair in rollers. This time Karen took three shots – front, side-on and over-the-crown and back.

Karen decided that a wash for Ginger would come next though –because her hair would take a long time to dry, it being so thick and lustrous. Margot's would be done last. Ginger's was wash done at length – I looked on, quite dreaming that one day I might wash that wonderful hair myself. Then, as Karen wound Ginger's hair on to the most huge rollers I had ever seen, Ginger took care of hand-drying my hair. Margot was, a little, excluded – at least it seemed, as the three of us were involved together. It didn't seem to bother her; she looked fixedly at Ginger and Karen. She was clearly enjoying the view and absent-mindedly began to play with one of her nipples through the fabric of her blouse. I averted my gaze – the last thing I wanted was confrontation over something like that!

 

Ginger's hair was set by Karen, and dried by Margot, whilst my hair cooled after the drying. I knew it had been hot, again, so the curls I had would be tightly-formed. Karen took a couple of really close-up photos for her portfolio. Mine were mixed in with those of the two girls I was modelling with. With us each in rollers, it was difficult to tell who was who; only the size of the rollers gave me away.

 

The time had come for them to be removed and the styling to begin. One-by-one, Karen removed the rollers, starting with the smaller ones around the sides and back of my head. Each curl – now a deep red colour, sprang back into position where they had been set. The larger rollers on the crown of the head were left until last. The colour there was brighter, as the curls were hit by the spotlight above the mirror. What a colour! The curls sat there for a while, almost demanding to be touched. Thoughts raced through my mind – what was I doing here??!!! There was no way that this could be called "boys' hair"….. this was getting out of hand….. but in a strange way, I couldn't bear to stop it – which I guessed I could if I protested.

"Whatever you say", I remembered again that I had answered – "That was the deal – we all agreed". I guessed I had to sit back and see what came to pass.

"You'll have to sit there while I wash Margot's hair and get her ready", said Karen. "but while you're waiting, you can dry Ginger's hair – that will be a treat for you." It was! While I did that, playing the hot stream of air over Ginger's glorious red rollered-curls, we chatted, the same "salon chatter" as Karen and I had done. "Are you going somewhere special? Have you had your hair this way before?" I asked "my client". Indeed, she was "going somewhere special". "You must let Karen take a photo before the rollers are taken out", I said, quite wanting to hold the image that I had before me.

Meanwhile, Margot's long fair hair was washed and treated the same way it had been before. I overheard Karen say "You must let me put highlights in your hair someday". "Well, if you do, they'll have to be striking ones – I don't want anything subtle!" was Margot's reply. "That will be for next time, then", said Karen - "…for today, you're having the beehive and French Pleat – that will be striking enough!". Margot's hand strayed towards her nipple again as she smiled at Karen, oblivious to the pair of us, Ginger and me, who were watching.

I was next into the styling chair, with Margot's hair washed, I was ready for the comb-out and the backcombing that was promised. Part of me was kinda scared, the other part kinda exhilarated. What would it finish out like? I was soon to find out.

Karen teased each curl with her tail-comb, watching each one spring back tightly. Then she caught the first curl and started to work on it. She ran the comb through and through it…… There was no way that this could be called "boys' hair"….. this was getting out of hand….. and then she began the backcombing; gently at first and then harder and harder. The red hair was now like a mist, not a firm curl. Then, the second curl got the treatment; the same, then the third and fourth, and so on. Soon, it was all ready for the dressing; smoothing the style, retaining the clear legacy of the rollers but now set free with the height that the backcombing had given. Finally, Karen sprayed my hair repeatedly with firm hold spray - "Lacquer!!" she said, "…where would we be without it?!"

I sat apart from the mirror but within viewing range, able to admire my own reflection whilst Ginger's hair was the next to be dealt with. Karen had said "For Ginger, a set on the biggest rollers I can get into her hair… to allow me to dress her hair like for an evening ball – "Big Hair", they call it. It would make the most of the colour, don't you agree? – and I need practice in doing that".

And it did…. And she did! Ginger's hair formed lustrous handfuls when released from the rollers. Touchable. How I suddenly began to envy Karen the part she was playing in our treatments. She was deciding how we would look. She was putting her ideas into effect. Ginger's hair began to take on an "Eighties" look – "Dallas or Dynasty, which was the more outrageous for the BIG hair??" said Ginger.

 

Her hair was combed and looped and pinned and, with some held up, the style was now exposing her neck. Karen backcombed just a few strands of the wonderful red hair and laid them in tendril curls across the crown. Ginger's face was framed with what the Americans would call "bangs" I thought….. very touchable.

She too received a cloud of hairspray to give hold – a gentler hold than my own. And she was done – much to her own, and Karen's delight. "I have to have several pictures of this!" she exclaimed. "So must I!" I thought but didn't say.

Margot's hair now needed drying by hand and the severe beginnings of a French Pleat began. Karen drew Margot's hair close to her, its length falling through her hands. She pinned it all severely down a vertical line at the back of Margot's head and then proceeded to wind the length into the roll that was to control the hair all the way from her crown to the nape of Margot's neck. Tight and sleek, it shouted "control!" Now, Karen was in complete control. Karen stood back and admired her work, the top of Margot's head still to be completed. "Yes," she said, after thoughts lasting more than a minute, "… highlights round both sides would look great!" Margot smiled "that" smile again, "bright, bold and very distinctive", she agreed.

Karen reached for the tail comb with which she had backcombed my own hair and began to give Margot at least as harsh a treatment as I had had – time and again, she worked the hair high and drew the comb back against the shaft of the hair – and again, a mist of hair, this time fair not red, was created. Karen smoothed the beehive top into a smooth outline, fully four inches above Margot's crown. "Wonderful!" murmured Margot. "You look good enough to kiss……." breathed Karen. "What's stopping you?" said Margot, looking Karen in the eye with a "Come and get me" look. What would happen – Ginger and I were both equally stunned – what would they do? What should we do?

I looked to Ginger and a thought flashed through my mind – it takes two…. I thought, and they're a two and that leaves us as a two – never mind my admiration for Karen that had been developing. "Ginger, you look better than good enough to kiss……." There was no time to be concerned, would she let me kiss her? Indeed, she would, said the smile that spread across her face… and so we kissed, before anything happened, before Karen's answer to "What's stopping you?"

My head began to spin, the kisses went on and the atmosphere became electric. This was as far as it went but the questions were more numerous now than ever since we began helping the Apprentice to practice her skills. We had practised washing and drying and setting, rolling, combing-out and now colouring. Then we had started kissing – not on any price list for a hairdressers that I had even known. What would come next. Was there to be a "next time"???

Funny, as we ended, nobody thought to pick up the camera.

I went home determined to avoid my parents but also determined to sleep with my hair as it now was. Tomorrow could take care of itself.

TO BE CONTINUED

  

  

  

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