A Love Letter to My $20 Chinatown Haircut

I went by way of hair puberty in school. A number of weeks into my freshman 12 months, I received my first grownup haircut at a neighborhood barbershop (sandwiched between a bagel store and a FedEx). The partitions have been plastered with classic beer adverts and yellowing Playboy points, and the air carried the unmistakable scent of a superb ol’ American man—a lingering musk of leather-based, sweat, and shaving cream. As I settled into my chair, the barber handed me a chilly beer—IPA, which I hated however sipped frivolously within the identify of politeness—and we exchanged small speak concerning the climate in North Carolina. And the grand finale: a hot-towel shave with a straight razor. 

Per week later, I caught a glimpse of my reflection and was terrorized by the sight of my hair. An unruly tuft of hair rose defiantly from the again of my head; it was a proud peacock on full show. I’d attempt to tamp it down with pomade, however the peacock saved on peacocking, irrespective of what number of visits I made to the barber or what number of hair serums I layered. Ultimately, I got here to phrases with the peacock, accepting the brand new actuality of my hair puberty.

However one night, after journeying residence to Southern California for winter break, I returned to my native hair salon, an Asian-owned mom-and-pop store in a strip mall within the San Gabriel Valley. It was a world other than my school barbershop: There weren’t any hot-towel shaves, no small speak, and no free beers. Only a Cantonese drama taking part in on a tiny TV and Wendy, an aged Chinese language girl who all the time smelled vaguely of Tiger Balm. “Did a white individual reduce your hair?” she requested once I sat down. “Chinese language hair, it’s important to reduce it so it doesn’t stick out, shuaí gē.” Thriller solved.

There isn’t a lot discourse round Asian hair. Most individuals would most likely sum it up as unproblematic and pin-straight. But it surely’s a lot greater than that: Asian hair runs the gamut from jet-black and ultra-fine to frizzy and dense. And opposite to standard perception, caring for Asian hair requires particular care and experience. This was a reality I had all the time identified however by no means fairly acknowledged—numerous cult-favorite American hair merchandise have by no means actually labored wonders for my broken, ultra-fine hair—however I suppose it took my hair puberty to completely come to phrases with that. 

Regularly, I got here up with a brand new haircare routine in hopes of completely eradicating the peacock. I braved the phobia of grown-out sideburns, tried to trim my very own hair whereas I used to be in my school city, and saved the large haircuts for my Chinese language salon again residence in between semesters. Once I studied overseas in London, I leafed by way of dozens of salons earlier than I lastly discovered an Asian salon that felt like residence. Earlier than I knew it, I fell in love with my $20 haircuts, how my hair stylist understood the overseas language of my advantageous Asian hair, how they’d all name me shuaí gē, Chinese language for good-looking boy, and the way, identical to again residence, everybody would communicate Chinese language to me and I’d communicate Chinglish again.

I grew up considerably ashamed of my $20 haircuts. A lot of my coming-of-age as a homosexual Asian-American man was spent feeling ignored of many Asian areas. I practically dropped out of Chinese language language college and was unabashedly female, which made for snarky feedback from relations (niáng niang qiāng, or “sissy man” in English, is a phrase I’m all too acquainted with.) My dad typically confused that, as the one son, it was my obligation to hold on the Deng identify, however I couldn’t shake the sensation that I wasn’t Asian sufficient or man sufficient to satisfy these expectations. But beneath the stark fluorescent salon lights, I discovered a pocket of peace the place I didn’t should spiral about who I ought to or shouldn’t be. Right here, the aunties would take my arms in theirs, look at my nail designs with eager eyes, and say, “How cute!” Once I dyed my mullet child blue, the aunties would shout throughout the salon that I appeared like a good-looking Okay-pop star. And even once I spoke damaged Chinese language to them, they’d kindly keep on the dialog in Chinese language, and I’d nod in response as a result of I didn’t know the way to say what I wished to say. 

Once I first moved to New York just a few months in the past, I confronted lots of unfamiliar sights and sounds. However I quickly discovered issues that felt vaguely acquainted to me: the weirdly spacious Wegmans in Brooklyn that jogs my memory of the Vons again residence and the hearty steamed pork and chive dumplings at Shu Jiao Fu Zhou. Each few weeks, I lose myself in New York’s Chinatown, strolling previous the Asian grandmas, their foldable buying carts, and the cultural mishmash of overpriced classic outfitters and harshly lit boba outlets abuzz with overwhelmed vacationers. I cease by Mei Lai Wah for an irritatingly delicious pineapple barbeque pork bun and head over to 22 Pell, a Chinese language-owned hair salon that I’ve been going to since I first visited New York. 

Inside, I do know what to anticipate. I by no means have an appointment, however the receptionist all the time greets me with a “shuaí gē.” The buttery sweetness of egg tarts from the bakery subsequent door is available in waves. The salon is abuzz with Asian aunties perched in vinyl chairs and gossiping in rapid-fire Cantonese, however there are additionally every kind of consumers with every kind of hair (a lot of them Gen Zers who most likely noticed a TikTok concerning the salon’s $25 blowouts.) The wall is dotted with hair posters from the ’90s and Lunar New 12 months banners, their edges curling barely from years of damage. Elaine all the time cuts my hair, and regardless that we don’t know a lot about one another, she says all of it together with her snips. It’s just about the identical factor each time: fade on the aspect, lengthy within the again, and texture within the entrance. The peacock is nowhere in sight, a long-lost echo of my hair puberty that’s speedily snipped away by Elaine. There are a dozen Chinese language and English conversations taking place without delay, accompanied by the regular drone of hair dryers and the crisp rustling of plastic capes, however right here, I lose myself within the calming chaos. It’s nothing fancy, but it surely’s residence.