I mentioned in an earlier post (and sorry for the deluge of posts, by the way, but Emily and I are both playing catch up) that Emily prepared a surprise for me.
My hair had been getting pretty long before we left, so much so that our friend Lorena begged me to let her cut it. But I told her I was holding out for a real Paris do. We looked around the part of Montmartre we're staying in, and found a couple salons, but we agreed (so I thought!) that I could just walk in Saturday morning or even Sunday, no need to rush.
But Emily was quietly scheming all the while. She had not only found a barbershop for me, she'd found one that offers shaves with a straight razor! I've been a safety razor user for years - you have to be more careful than with the modern stuff, but when you do it right it's a closer and gentler shave - but I'd never used a straight razor. Always wanted to though, I'd heard it's farther down the same path - closer and gentler if done right, but with a higher price if you mess up. And actually, I really WAS in need of a shave by Friday, when the surprise took place. (I knew in advance there would be one, but I had no inkling what it might be. The one word I'd thought I'd overheard was "hurricane.") It turns out that was in part because Emily had hidden my razor so I wouldn't think about it.
Emily got me the works - a cut and a shave. And it. was. AMAZING. The place itself, Les Mauvais Garçons, has an old school feel (for example, there's an advert on the wall for toothpast made with the "Curie formula" of thorium and radium so those pearly whites REALLY shine), but despite that feel they serve a younger, more chic crowd.
(Not pictured: The giant Mac monitor right next to the cash register.)