Ever since a hairdresser in 1984 mistakenly chopped off my long braided rat-tail, I’ve never liked getting my hair done. Besides a lack of trust that I’m going to get to hold on to my hard-grown assets, I always feel funny staring at myself in a mirror that long. I just want to get it over with. Because haircuts seem a necessary evil, I have always envied the women who love to get their hair done. They embrace the perfect warm jets soothing their scalps, the massage on their temples and brows, the friendship that comes with talk and the intimacy that comes with touch. These women have their hairdresser. They recommend their hairdresser and they praise their hairdresser when they get compliments on their nice new style. At Novelette’s salon, she is as erce and loyal about her clientele as they are about her. Novelette’s touch turns trepidation to trust and for the rst time all week, all month, all year, each woman is caressed and held and listened to in a way that only a great hairdresser can do. Each appointment turns into an opportunity to release the weight of the world, and the women come out looking better than before, not just because Novelette is a great stylist, but because Novelette is a great listener. There is healing in story. Novelette soothes the hurts by cradling the womens’ tired heads; and by listening, Novelette herself is healed. Despite my usual disinclination towards hair salons, I’m glad we all made an appointment here at Novelette’s, where she might offer us some healing too. -Jillian Keiley