In Sydney, anyway. I’m so taking Amanda from Pandagon there if she ever comes visiting Sydney.
A salon in an old shop/townhouse on Enmore Road. It has one side-wall purple, the other silver, miniature disco balls and purple-glitter boa-type streamers hanging everywhere, and halogen-blue fairy lights draped all round.
For the insufferable music snobs, there are arty hipster musician photos on the walls, of Siouxsie and Rick Ocasek and Tom Waits and bands I’ve forgotten the names of but who look damn cool. There are imported British music mags to read alongside the usual fash-mags and celeb-zines. When the Smiths CD finished playing, two staff members spent 5 minutes debating which CD should go on next (a compilation of tracks featuring superior bass guitar and drum work).
There are kitschy tchotchkes all over the place, and the staff’s personal styling aesthetics orbit around some hipster-goth-emo-punk zone. And they know how to cut hair properly! I now have a supoib layered long bob with a not-entirely-natural-looking deep burgundy rinse through it.
They did, unfortunately, want to know my star sign when I filled in the customer card, which means they only get 9/10 on the tigtog rating scheme. I’ll be interested to see what their resident astrologer makes of “Skeptical, with Curmudgeon rising”.
I’m not about to shill a business directly on the blog, but if this sounds like just the salon for you, chuck me an email and I’ll let you know its name