The Beauty of a Stylist-Client Relationship
I had a nagging feeling something wasn’t right with Gemma. A few months ago, she had missed an appointment, which was very unlike her. We did all the normal steps with confirmation emails, a phone call to see she was running late. Nothing. As the weeks passed, I kept expecting her to call, saying, “Oh shit, I had a family emergency. I am so sorry! When can we rebook?” But no call came.
We had talked about Gemma’s mother being unwell in the past, so I thought that may be related to her no-show. She remained in the back of my mind. I cared about her — her life, not just her hair.
One day, I finally sat down at the front desk and Googled her name. I flew out of my chair when I saw the first search result — it was a link to my beautiful client’s obituary. Shocked and saddened, I went to the back room of the salon and cried.
My work as a stylist goes well beyond the services I provide. Reflected in the mirror at my station are all the things my clients trust me with — the joys, the losses, the dramas, the funny stories. When clients move away, get sick, struggle, or sadly pass away, it affects me deeply.
Gemma was just 51 when she died. I was gutted.
You see, the connection with my clients has no age limit. As humans we are wired to want to connect with one another. I enjoy creating hair cuts for my one year-old clients as much as the ones in their eighties.
Some clients are in-and-out visitors to the salon. I can tell when a client is there for “just” a haircut. But more often than not, I sense that clients enjoy the companionship and connection that develops between us over time. For me, that relationship is very true and very real. It certainly was with Gemma.
She had been my client for four years, and I was fond of her from the moment we met. We spoke of so many things from family, work, vacations, and my favorite subject, all things food. She was always a delight to have in my chair. Soft-spoken and always kind. When I was going to visit my brother in Maryland she told me about a restaurant she loved called Founding Farmers. We ended up eating there for our Easter brunch and it did not disappoint. I shared stories about my family. She told me all about her nieces and nephews. I could see the love she had for her family, especially her mom. She was one of my many curly clients, and curls were always a hot topic during our appointments.
Simply put, I will miss our time together. I liked her, and she liked me. Not every client who sits in my chair is my sister-from-another-mister. But, my investment as a stylist in my clients’ lives is very real. The closeness and bonding — those things are real. It would be hard to succeed as a stylist without that openness, compassion, and listening skill.
Clients might not realize how much emotional stuff is unloaded at our stations. People tell us what’s on their mind — the good, the bad, and the ugly. How could those chat sessions not translate into genuine caring? Things stay with us, and sometimes keep us up at night.
When I’ve been along for the ride with a client and heard their stories unfold over months or even years, I am invested in that human-to-human connection.
One way I like to show my support beyond the in-the-chair moments is to send cards, particularly when someone has gone through a loss. I wrote to Gemma’s sister-in-law after she died, expressing my sympathy — I had her email address because I had cut her hair once as well. She responded, saying how often I had popped up in family conversation, especially about curls. “She valued your skill, and the time spent with you during appointments,” she wrote. The feeling was mutual — I valued her as both a client and a friend.
Grief is a feeling we have all become very familiar with this past year and a half. A pandemic will do that to you. But, through this global pandemic I have a new found joy and connection to my career, and clientele. We are all united, and have been living this “down” moment together.
I enjoy and take pride in the fact that people feel comfortable enough to choose to come to my hair studio during such a scary time. A time where choosing what we “need to do” could feel like a life-and-death decision. The idea that even if only for forty-five minutes there may be a slice of normalcy, and pure camaraderie for clients to enjoy makes me happy.
So I encourage you to think of your authentic connections to the people in your life. You may even be surprised where you can find a genuine connection with a person.
When you do, smile and think of Gemma. I know I will.
