Kleopatra Beauty Salon

We survived our first Kharkovian haircut at the Kleopatra Beauty Salon with no major incidents. We decided to give it a try, having found one website that had some reviews of local places; Kleopatra had the best reviews. I had to look up the words: cowlick (vykhor) and ringlet (I can't remember, but it had nothing to do with the phrase to turn around and was the same whether the curl was vertical or not), because, let's face it, they are not words you use every day.

I was kind of sad to see Jason's long locks go. When he got up in the morning, he had this rather mad Ludwig Von Beethoven look about him with what is left of his receding hairline standing straight on end. Now, however, he is neatly trimmed. The only flub with his haircut was the question of whether or not Jason uses a "mashina". We both thought she was asking about hairdrying and said "no". However, in retrospect, she may have been asking about using a razor to trim his hair. She did the job with a series of scissors. In any case, his hair is neatly trimmed and looks about like it usually does.

Mine went perfectly fine as well. We showed her a few photos of what I usually look like, and indicated chin length and off she went. She did part of it wet and part of it dry, just like at home.

The interesting thing, however, was my gamble with my eyebrows. It has been a while since I've had my brows done, but they offered the service and I decided to do it under my usual motto (for such situations) "hair grows". I figured, at worst, I'd end up with brows a la Marlene Dietrich. In any case, she moved the chair to a wall, gave me a pillow and had me slink down and lean on the wall, while she attacked my brows BY HAND. Yep, no wax or sugar involved. She plucked and trimmed using tweezers, a brush, and scissors. Please note: I did not cry.