News
Article Published: February, 2006
I Was A Beauty Virgin
I do not like ties. I do not like dress pants. Hell, I don't even like shoes. I like jeans. And T-shirts. And flip-flops. They're comfortable. And easy. I know how to dress nicely-I look at the mannequins at Banana Republic-but I generally choose comfort over style. Hence, I was a little nervous in the days leading up to my metrosexual makeover' at MetroBoom salon in Riverfront. I've never had a makeover. I'd never had a manicure, or a pedicure, or had eyebrows waxed. I was a beauty virgin.
The news of my makeover spread like wildfire around the office, but I insisted that it was not a makeover. I made my own ground rules-no dye and no wax. Definitely not a makeover.
And really, it wasn't. If anything, it was a fashion nudging.
MetroBoom salon, the brainchild of Jung Park, is a joint salon and store, a one-stop shop for looking good. Park, 34, looks like that well-dressed guy in your office- a normal guy, just with much nicer shoes. His salon feels comfortable, kind of like a swank Floyd's Barber Shop with a half-dozen racks of clothes and glass cases of accessories in the corner. Staffed by a team of young female stylists and masseuses, it's far from intimidating.
I signed up for the premium treatment,' which included a 15-minute chair massage, followed by a joint hair wash and scalp/neck massage, palm-pressure-point massage, and shoeshine. For a man used to the barbershop sprits and buzz, the scalp and neck massage during the hair wash was an awakening.
I told Tori, the blonde, twenty something stylist, that although I preferred a clean-cut look short on the sides, a little longer on the top- I would consider something new. She thought not. Not longer? Or maybe a little color change? Or how ëbout a trendy faux-hawk? Nope,' she said. I like your hair just the way it is. You have pretty hair. It has nice waves.' My hair, never before my friend, was now a stud.
For the sartorial portion of my upgrade, I headed to the clothing corner, where Park handed me the first of several get-ups. I retreated to the dressing room and emerged in a blue dress shirt and black pants. Rethinking the blue shirt, he handed me an off-white one, with blue pinstripes. Tori cooed, Oh, that'll go better with your eyes.' My eyes are studs too.
Park also handed me a striped blue tie and asked if I knew how to tie a tie. I nodded yes, and he seemed satisfied, although a little surprised. He then broke out the cufflinks for the shirt, which made me immensely happy. I've always wanted to wear cuff links. He had to show how they work and actually put them in my sleeves, but once they were in I felt like a badass.
When I returned to my office, everyone seemed a little disappointed that the makeover wasn't dramatic. I got a lot of, 'Hey, you lookÖ exactly the same.' Damn right, I said. I have pretty hair. Everyone fell about themselves looking at the pictures (particularly the hipster getup), but the tie and cuff links emerged the winner. You look great.' And, You never wear nice clothes like that.' I tried to defend myself, claiming I do have nice clothes in my closet. So why don't you wear them?'
Good question. I know, for example, that if I start to dress nicer, I'll definitely hear about it from the other male schlubs in the office. Look at Doyle the metrosexual' But who the hell cares what the guy in the Hawaiian shirt says? He's just jealous of my pretty hair. And my cufflinks. Laugh it up Hawaiian boy. I look good.
