Conversations With My Scalp
Scalp: ahem… sorry to bother you, Miss Keyes, but I’m feeling a little…
Me: (impatiently) : What?!
Scalp: …neglected…
Me: It can’t have escaped your notice that I’m shockingly shallow, and if no one can see you, then! I. Don’t! Care!
Scalp: (muttering): …but scalp detox is all the go. And if you don’t take care of me, weeelllll *inspects nails* I can’t guarantee the health and loveliness of your hair…
I swallow hard. I am devoted to my hair. DE. VO. TED. Our relationship is intense and codependent: if it’s unhappy, then so am I.
Scalp: Hair is dead. The only part of your head that’s alive is me. And you give me nothing.
Me: (scornful) You get the trickle-down effect from shampoo and conditioner.
Scalp: I am skin. Just like your face. Would you wash your face with shampoo?
I wouldn't. Of course, I wouldn't, so greatly alarmed, I hurry off to the Aveda salon in the Brown Thomas Beauty Lounge. En route I meet a woman I admire greatly, who asks, "What are you up to?"
“Spending quality time with my scalp.”
The look she gives me is almost certainly one of profound respect.
Once inside and in the chair, a magnifying photo is taken of my scalp – the vista of dry skin is slightly horrifying, but it could be far worse, Carol, my therapist, says darkly. I could have dandruff, folliculitis, scalp acne, eczema, seborrhoeic dermatitis… the list is long and I’m suddenly very grateful to my poor unloved scalp, which has provided trouble-free service all these years.
So off we go. Carol dry-brushes my scalp with a strange, wiry thing to lift off any dead skin. Next comes a purifying scalp cleanser which removes product build-up and – thrillingly! – exfoliates my actual head! Then comes a 10-minute moisturising scalp masque, including a blissful pressure-point massage.
The products are available for home use, except for the masque. (Carol mutters something about people not using it appropriately, which intrigues me…)
We finish with a protective scalp concentrate to prevent sebum build-up and fight off “environmental aggressors”.
(This all happens at the same time as your hair being washed and conditioned, so you’re not there half the day.)
Afterwards, my head feels excitingly “light”. Another photo of my scalp is taken – this time it’s astoundingly pristine.
Scalp: Thank you.
Me: (gruffly) …no, thank you. We’ll, like, do it again soon.
