Since I started going to the barber alone my instructions were always the same: "very short back and sides, as they let on." Simple directions and understand that no one has ever taken. Never too short back and sides, never too long on it.
Every barber, hair stylist, salon workers, or whatever the hair had to comment, orally or scissors my directions. There are also those who falsely available, they show you a catalog of worthy heads of a tribe of Papua and ask you which of those metrosexuals adoni Teens want to look like.
"But he wants the double-edged sword?" with that said, a bit 'disgusted that means: "oi! you forty, fuck you go around like a little boy (which by the way the double-edged sword you do not take more)" or
" Yes, of course, now I do I say from a long-haired child how to do my job. "
I found round heads, fringe, hair Bavarian motorcycle, a fake Mohawk with the line on one side, hilltops to pineapples, bananas, hair as watermelons, helmets immovable as a seminarian, clouds tricote nostalgia of a chorister of San Remo in the seventies. Anything extreme. No punk, no dandy, no mod. In memory hairstyles are all variations on the theme of the line on the one hand, the uniform of a nice guy. Then I began to do a rasarli. Since only the first few times to adjust the length on teddy bear. The effect man match was guaranteed. Then I shortened. To forget to have hair.
The fact is that working with creative people is a curse. They are convinced to have an answer for everything with their blessed creativity. You listen for the first three seconds, then attach a sort of automatic annuitore and start to fantasize about your head. And when you just finished saying "I would like them ..." already start.
"With a head so I can play the Elvis of 1963, Be-Bop A Lula version with a touch of Peter Townsend of The Who a few years later." And they are already there to sharpen the blades.
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