Mantova Style

For about 20 years, I have colored my hair. "Highlighted" is the more glamorous term for it, and basically I try and match the shade that I liked when I liked my hair color and before I had a load of grey: I was about 17 and it was honey-blonde. For the past four years I have gone to same hairdresser in Missoula, and I like her a lot, and I am in-and-out within an hour. 

Since moving to Italy over a month ago, the change in climate had done a number on my hair: it was time for a "touch up" and cut. I kept hoping that I would find a soft highlight job on a Mantovian and I could ask where to get my hair done. But, blondes in Italy are few, and I did not see one who had a nice, natural-looking blonde color. So, I began scouring the city for the perfect salon. What do you look for? A name? China Hair sounded like an odd choice in Italy; London Syle could be promising, but I didn't remember London hair being very good; there where loads of places with Bella this and that -- too obvious; finally, I came across Selena, a one-woman, pretty shop, on a busy street in town. For a couple of days I would walk past her place: she was always busy, with different clients. OK, I had found my shop.

Yesterday I went in for my hair appointment. With my limited Italian supplemented by loads of hand gestures and pointing to pictures, we agreed I needed to cut off quite a bit and have it "touched by the sun". Somewhere in there, as we were going through my hair, she held up a dry clump of hair and said, "This is ugly, really...." While she was correct, I was taken back by her honestly in assessment. Yet, I have found more than once that people in Italy comment on your appearance [or whatever] with a forthrighteousness unheard of in America.

Madeline told me the story that when all the kids in the classroom went around and said what they liked, one plump boy said he liked to eat his mother's cooking. The teacher shot back, "Yes, I think we can see that: you don't get fat from nothing." The whole class laughed, including the boy and the teacher. Wow.

So, my ugly hair was cut and colored. The cut is nice: she was right-on with what had to come off. But the color is ... well, let's say that I could fit in with a "Strippers from the 1980s World Tour" without a problem. I guess  in Italy, "touched by the sun" means going to the sun and holding your head to a sun ray.

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