& I thought I was impervious to fly, straight hair guys due to that early “hotboy salon/”Frank, you have nothing to Worry about~”/”what the fuck are you DOING at that salon??!” inoculation. Cockily so. …Until around 30 when I started dipping my toe into commercial modeling via an agency in new york city, late bloomer-style.

I got turned out getting comped $500 soho haircuts by this Gorgeously straight, ridiculously talented, hairy as fuck but in the penultimately right ways Fashist Greek God …who completely understood my curl pattern due to what grew out of his crown.

It was supposed to be like $25 for us, plus tip but … Mines appreciated my…appreciation.

It was a collision course of archetypal kouros aesthetics, dark designhead genius- he was an Artist{ & It’s good to have your work appreciated lol} and utter submission to a hands-on, high end beauty addiction.

…In hindsight I was doomed, but I dig it took That much To make me …pliable lol.

But For the Record… Esmerelda was a Glorious Billboard for dude. He got his monies worth from referrals many times over. At that time that gifting coming outta that kind of salon was the stuff of Legend. Now Whyte guys pride themselves on doing right by black hair. He was a Mack.

…A few years earlier he’d totally have been the kind of dude I would’ve been wanting to dress too. He was a warrior at his craft.

& he got me addicted to high-fangled steam machines for Esmerelda. I knew my hair was gonna love New Orleans years later because August = his hot seat steaming the face outta her so she’s all freak-flag flying. Gotta find fuckers who love your hair too. & just learn to diy with love. Moral of the story.