SPAM POST – Vidal, Before Sassoon
Vidal, Before Sassoon: If You Don’t Look Good, We Don’t Look Good!
— By Rohini Lall
There is a bizarre restlessness in Prashant Attri, Almost anxiety riddled, he sits, stands, bend over and doesn’t ever take his eyes off you, not until he is done. Then he breaks out into a satisfied grin and asks if you are okay with what he has done. If you aren’t, he redo it without replacing that smile with a frown.
There are names he mispronounces but scissors never betray him. His spoken word isn’t particularly good and french even worse. All though, he does know how to promise and deliver a smile.
“When I was in high school, my parents knew that it futile sending me anywhere else. I wanted to cut and colour and crimp and curl”, he says with a twinkle in his eyes brighter than usual times.
Years ago, while he was a trainee, just a young 17 year old with a pair of scissors, he committed a grave error. He chopped a girls hair almost half a foot and moved her to tears. He hasn’t been flawless since but he has been careful.
“I still want to be Vidal”, he tells me, the dread and giddiness in his voice reaching a heady mix.
His hands are scarred with cuts and burns and are riddled with bandaids.
“It is from my new scissors,” he informs, he responds amidst a “they will be faithful after they have drawn blood.”
An army brat, Prashant considers himself an eternal learner. The fire for knowledge burns bright here. There’s discipline in work and innovation in in his art.
He loves LOOKS. A place where he found passion, camaraderie and a safety net.
“I will go nowhere. I’m here to stay till I retire.” He informs sternly. “This is home for me.”
Attri has been with looks for a while now and really wants to be no place else.
He reiterates, “I just want to be Vidal one day. Just his confidence, his brilliance and his temperament. The three wives? That I can, and will skip.”
He goes on to talk about bringing brighter colours to India and does not see a reason as to why not. Bright jade, turquoise, flaming red are his preferred colours and he says that there has been a sharp increase in people who want them.
In a blink of an eye, he is taken back to cutting on dummies. “They never complained”, he guffaws. Ten years down the line, complain or not, he prefers the company of people. He likes taking care of their hair as if they were his own. He won’t cajole you into it because he wants to make money. He does it since he cares.
His tattered jeans pockets contain clips to hold hair in its place and his eyes dart all over the place again. “If you don’t look good, we don’t look good.” He reiterates his idol.
One day, he says wistfully. One day, I’ll be Vidal.
Rohini Lall is the author of The Sour Faced Moon. She is an avid reader, entertainment junkie and and likes to call herself dysfunctional without good hair.