All hair prayers answered at The Chapel

I skipped off to my consultation dressed in my ‘hair salon best’ in a bid to distract attention from my mangled mane. But alas, my efforts were in vain as eagle-eyed Billie spotted my criminal hair habit from the tube station and after treating me to a glass of wine and her words of wisdom, I conceded that it was time to take myself in hand, and place my hair very firmly in hers.

Not only is The Chapel so beautiful it made my eyes water (imagine Helena Bonham Carter’s house sans Tim Burton, with more hair brushes) but it is also a world away from the conveyor belt atmosphere that originally put me off hairdressers, sending me to the salon better known as ‘Mum’s kitchen’.

After too many botched bobs and dodgy dye-jobs, it was with more than a degree of trepidation that I surrendered my coat and my follicles. However, my nerves were totally unjustified. A few minutes with the lovely Billie was all it took to kiss goodbye to my weaslaphobia (google it).

Billie asked me about everything from my lifestyle to my favourite t-shirt and with a little help from her magical technicolour tonal indicator, I discovered that my quintessentially “English” complexion looked best with cooler shades, that calmed my ruddiness and made my blue eyes *pop*. Hence with the help of several colour charts and my insistence that no ammonia was to go anywhere near my head, she chose a super-duper conditioning treatment that would dip my natural colour only slightly, whilst nourishing my sorry excuse for a barnet.

The next phase was to decide on my cut, something I had decided on many moons ago and never had the courage to execute. Bangs, the sort of fringe that Lou Doillon would be proud of. And I wanted it. Cue Daniel, who spent the best part of half an hour trying to talk me out of making a rash decision, until he realized that my heart was well and truly set. “A fringe it is then!” said Daniel. Verity + the Chapel = Fringe + Happy.

A sanctuary just up the road from the City, stepping through the door is like stumbling down an exquisitely decorated rabbit hole and finding another world. Billie ensured that not a single strand of my overly long tresses was overlooked – a painstaking process for her and a thoroughly restful experience for me. I was presented with a glass of wine and ushered over to a velvet sofa to allow my colour to develop, before having my locks lopped with such precision it made Edward Scissorhands look like an amateur. Perfectly straight and expertly feathered, it was time for the moment of truth…to bang, or not to bang? I screwed my eyes shut and took a deep breath as Daniel held my hair aloft with scissors aimed thrillingly ominously, before tentatively half-nodding my consent. As I felt my hair fall into my lap I tentatively opened an eye to see myself exactly as I was before…only better.

Although Mum’s Kitchen is economical and hair-brushing is boring, I think the Chapel might have knocked her off the top spot and unleashed my inner Rapunzel. verity douglas

Contact The Chapel on 0207 520 0460 or email – islington@the chapel.co.uk

This entry was posted on Monday, March 1st, 2010 at 4:19 PM and is filed under Tried and tested. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.