Attention seems to follow my friend Billy wherever he goes. Whether that’s to the opening of a hip new bar or round the corner to drop off some dry cleaning, there’s always at least one person who’ll look twice, usually in a way that suggests their day has been brightened by the very presence of such a majestic vision of a human.
It’s fair, I have to say. In addition to not owning a single ordinary-looking piece of clothing, Billy’s perpetually rocking some remarkable hairstyle that you’ve never seen on anyone else in your life. He tends to trade it in for a new one after a couple of months, which is generally when you start noticing a few savvy fashionistas sporting watered-down versions of the same look.
From what I can tell, Billy’s tried out virtually all the hairdressers Melbourne has to offer – at least, any salon worth its salt has probably had him in for a trim. It’s taken me a while, though, to decode the secret ingredient that makes his hair so unique. I’m going to tell you what it is, partly because Billy spilled a martini on my new skirt last night (there’s logic there, I promise).
I found this out when he grudgingly allowed me to accompany him to an appointment at an upmarket St James Place hairdressing salon. After his hair had been cut, coloured and styled (in my view) to utter perfection, Timmy thanked the hairdresser profusely and headed out of the salon with a cheery wave. No sooner were we out the door, though, he had fished a pair of kitchen scissors out of his bag. He proceeded to use these to chop two hefty chunks out his mane at random. He did this while walking.
I was gobsmacked, and also somewhat awed by the genius behind the move. Some might call it ridiculous to cough up three figures for a salon look, only to immediately compromise it. But I can see the method in the madness. The cut and colour Billy paid for created a solid foundation for the chaos he would bring to it, which might otherwise appear messy and ill-conceived. Instead, the result is unexpected, yet artful and perfectly balanced.
So that’s Billy’s secret. Please don’t tell him I told you, or he’ll pour a martini over my head.