Somewhere (here, perhaps?) recently I learned of a new-to-me website, Hillman’s Hyperlinked and Searchable Chambers’ Book of Days. What a treasure this is!
The Chambers’ Book of Days, 1869 version, is organized according to calendar days and offers tidbits of history associated with those days. The tidbits might be of events or biographies, and also includes important births and deaths on the date. But it also contains some less momentous historical incidents.
Here’s one from March 12, 1825, titled The Traffic of Women’s Hair:
As a rule, the women of England do not sell their hair. There is, however, in England, a large and regular demand for this article, to make those supposititious adornments which one sees in every hair-dresser’s window. It is stated that a hundred thousand pounds’ weight of human hair is required to supply the demand of the English market. It is mainly brought from the continent, where women of the humbler rank may be said to cherish their hair with a view to selling it for money. Light hair comes mostly from Belgium and Germany, dark from France and Italy. There is a Dutch company, the agents of which make annual visits to the towns and villages of Germany, buying the tresses of poor women.
In France the trade is mostly in the hands of agents, sent out by large firms at Paris. These agents, going chiefly to the Breton villages, take with them a supply of silks, laces, ribbons, haberdashery, and cheap jewellery, which they barter with the peasant women and girls for their tresses. Mr. Trollope, while travelling in Brittany, saw much of this singular hair-cropping going on; as the women in that province all wear close-fitting caps, the difference between the cropped and the uncropped was not so perceptible as it otherwise would have been. The general price is said to vary from about one franc to five francs for a head of hair half a pound to a pound in weight: but choice specimens occasionally command more than their weight in silver, owing to the eager competition of buyers to obtain them.
In England, something of this kind is going on in country villages, but not (it is supposed) to any great extent. A feeling of womanly pride rebels against it. Occasionally, however, evidence peeps out to show that poor Englishwomen know that there is a market for such a commodity. One instance of a ludicrous kind occurred at a metropolitan police-court some years ago.
On March 12th, 1825, the court was thronged by a number of poor women, who seemed excited and uncomfortable, and who whispered among themselves as to who should be the spokeswoman to tell the tale which all evidently desired should be told. At length one of them, with a manner half ashamed, told the magistrate that one Thomas Rushton, a barber, called at her poor abode one day, and asked politely to look at her hair. Whether she guessed his errand, is not clear: but she took off her cap at his bidding. He professed to be in raptures with the beauty of her hair, and offered her a guinea for it. Being in straitened circumstances she accepted the offer. The rogue at once took out his scissors, and cut off the whole of her hair. ‘See, your worship,’ said she, ‘what he has done.’ His worship did see, and found that there were only little stumps of hair left like pig’s bristles. The fellow put her hair in his hat, put the hat on his head, and ran off without giving her a single coin. All the other women in the court had been defrauded of their tresses in a similar way, and probably all on the same day—for the rogue could not afford to wait until the exploit got wind. The poor women declared that they had been rendered quite miserable when they came to show their husbands their cropped heads—which may well be imagined.
It may be added that, about a hundred years ago, when false hair was perhaps more in use than it is now, a woman residing in a Scotch burgh used to get a guinea from time to time for her tresses, which were of a bright golden hue.
When I was in high school I let my mother cut my hair one time and she did an excellent job and I really liked it so of course a couple of months later I figured why not let her do it again….only this time she cut my hair so short that I would have to say it was military short…lol….needless to say it was the last time she cut my hair:)
Right before I had my first set of head shots done for my opera career I went to a salon a friend recommended. My previous hairdresser, Michael, had moved to New York. (Michael, if you are reading this I know it has been 25 years and I STILL haven’t forgiven you!) At this new salon they had an attitude of “We’re the experts. We know what your hair needs.” I had hair down to the middle of my back. I wanted the dead ends trimmed and a little shaping on top. Before I could stop her, the highly recommended hair dresser decided my hair needed a short, matron in sensible shoes haircut. The reason? Women my age, (I was not quite 30) weren’t supposed to wear their hair long. Needless to say when I saw myself in the mirror I burst into tears and walked out without paying. To this day I despise those first head shots and have managed to destroy almost all of them.
Maria, when I was a little girl my aunt cut my hair and I made her show me each piece she cut off! (she always did a good job).
Louisa!!! That is TRAUMA!!!
Almost all of them. The vast majority of hairdressers simply do NOT understand how to cut curly hair. They wet it and cut it like straight hair, and then when it dries it’s a mess.
I can relate. I, too, have curly hair. If I get a good cut, it grows out nicely and it can be 6 months or more before I need to go back. Unfortunately, by then most hairdressers have moved on.
I always wore my hair short, but before I left for the Philippines, I had it cut in a London Boy cut. (We are talking the late 60’s) I figured short would be better in the humidity would be best. Wrong. I couldn’t do a thing with it. When it did grow out, I tried to have it styled, but my fine, curly hair was so different from the straight, black hair they were used to cutting that no one could really cut it well. As a result, I went almost 3 years without a haircut. I discovered I liked my hair long. It is longer now than it has been in a very long time and desperately needs a good cut and styling, but I haven’t found anyone to do it.
I’ve had the same troubles with getting a good cut for curly to wavy hair. I can’t remember a specific worst cut but I do remember my best. I was staying with my aunt in Chicago for a summer and she took me to her salon, where a guy named Joey sang, whistled and danced around me while he was cutting my hair (dry, I might add). I was terrified but it ended up being the best cut I ever had.
I do feel for you curly-haired ladies. I don’t have that problem, but I can see that you need to have your hair cut the way it curls or you wouldn’t be able to do anything with it.