Fringe benefits: an ode to suburban hairdressers

‘For some, a hairdresser might be one of very few instances of human interaction, of conversation, of company, in their life.’ Photograph: Martin Parr/Magnum Photos

One of my earliest memories is sitting on the bonnet of a Silver Cross pram, my baby brother asleep inside, while Mam pushed us to the local hairdresser to touch up her perm. I could, of course, be making this whole thing up, reconstructing this rose-tinted fantasy as a childhood memory of my own. I’m not even certain a Silver Cross ever graced our front door. And I’d have been too big a lump to be sitting upon its apron, as well as older in this memory than would have been possible. So, yes, making it up is highly probable.

There is a particular kind of intimacy that exists between you and your hairdresser that’s hard to capture anywhere else