One item was still open on the checklist. A wig.
Those were pre-internet times, only few had a squawking modem and not much else than company's mails to read. That is the one out of ten times when all elements collaborated.
Desperately dwelling the phone book for clues. Here. That one seems quite right. Hairstyle and postiches specialized saloon, burlesque.
Events have taken a sharp turn. Dressing and makeup was not enough. Living a girl's life between walls became increasingly frustrating. Cherry on the cake, my Fairy was insistently calling the shots.
"You know how it feels and now you must discover what it really does sweetie."
What she was urging me to felt like millions of cold insane ants running circles on my skin sending somehow heat waves deep in my belly. Inducing dreams, the kind of dreams that made me shiver and further cuddle my pillow wishing It was me being cuddled.
Feverish hand on the phone. Dialing. Rings pass by. Out of luck ? "Prrrronto .... "
Exuberant ? The voice over the line was way more than that. A wig ? Sure. We have trillions of very pretty charming wigs. Any kind of wigs. Are they expensive ? All is relative to how much one loves wigs. Of course.
Can I order one ? That would be a catastrophic delusion, wigs are very personal and need to be fitted by a maestro. Of course not any maestro. Only a super-mega-great-certified maestro of all times can do a proper fit. Gasp.
I could show up just to see and have a real gusto expresso ? Well.. Why not ?
There I am. An ordinary rather classy hair saloon. Pushing the door. Perfumes of hot hair products, whining dryers, thumping music, busy hairdressers. And Aldo.
Aldo. Even more exuberant in life. Gesticulating, pitching his voice to improbable heights, moving like a ballerina. The absolutely certified by all academies maestro of hair art was more than any sights I've seen.
Flooding his collaborators with suggestions and "bellissimo" complements he literally draggs me to the backroom. The wig kingdom. Voila, miracolo, wigs on empty eyed Styrofoam heads appear behind a curtain. Definitely not millions yet enough for a genuine "Wow".
Sitting on the chair in front of mirror densely framed by light-bulbs. Feeling lightness in my head as Aldo dances around, stops for a concerned look here and there, swirls.
What kind of wig would I have in mind ? For a burlesque comic amateur theater show ? "That's how we all started so let it be a bellissimo debut..."
He just did it. Somehow that little sympathetic exuberant hair dresser got me figured in a few minutes. Or maybe even less ? Relief. Can drop the mask.
"Actually it's for my own use, a delicate subject, I dress-up."
Definitely there's nothing to worry about, it's normal to explore further the beauty we love so much, all is safe here, guaranteed by many, really that many satisfied customers. "Feel home dear !"
Dear ?
Blond is so common, absolutely not. Fire, a devastating intoxicating deep brilliant red fire and volume, that much of volume, living moving volume... "Rroarrrr... " tearing the air with his imaginary feline paw.
Ok, I get the picture. My credit-card will cry for help before the afternoon is over.
Back to the public section. Sitting on another chair. A wig needs preparation. A new hair style to both anchor and not show about. Quick orders to an assistant, the entire high coiffure machine fires-up at once.
Fixing gel, mesh, that many clips of all shapes and sizes, wait a bit for it to take. Do I have a good dryer ? Not really. No problemo, I'll be supplied with a prime professional one just like this, 3 years of warranty.
Compulsory to close my eyes until told, the magic is about to happen, I'll be shown all details and how-to tricks after.
Not that I really mind. The mesh over my skull is not the most appealing vision..
Swish. Undefined mass tickles my face. Flows on my shoulders. Pulling, tugging, ouch, more clips.
Synthetic fragrance of hairspray. More tugging.
He definitely knew his trade. Deep smoothly brilliant voluminous shoulder length cascade of beauty.
Wait dear just a momento, smile, keep smiling, a bit of red here, make a kiss, hold it, pad here, touch up there, eyes wide open, closed now, stay steady...
A red headed incendiary beauty with cheeks still on fire by the very close shaving was about to have her very first expresso.
Decades later my better half stumbled upon a candle with a pink ribbon bow.
"It's a birthday candle. A very special birthday, the day I had to blow it while being served the most exquisite expresso ever."
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