My hairdresser, Stacey, is a very attractive mid-20s woman, with long dark hair always in perfect condition and beautifully cut; she is also fairly tall, has a lovely complexion and a good figure. Personality shines out of her eyes. She's also a good hairdresser. When I arrived last week, she'd just spent her lunch break going over the intricacies of putting ladies' hair up - apparently that's in fashion right now.
Stacey's a Pollok lassie who tells a good story. Let's just say if her family is half as dysfunctional as she says, the rest of us have nothing to worry about. Her mad auntie deserves a blog entry of her own. She also takes an interest in her clients. On my second ever visit to the salon, she told me 'You taught my mother.' She'd got out of me that I'd once been a teacher in Pollok and asked her mother if she remembered me. She also remembered my two pals. I reckon everybody in Pollok in the latter half of the 20th century was taught by either me or my two pals.
But Stacey is not happy. She hates her nose because it has a bump in it. She also hates her fat thighs and would love liposuction on her belly. I argue she's not fat by anybody's definition and a bump in her nose hasn't held back Davina McCall's career. But no. It's only shortage of money that stops Stacey having plastic surgery on her bits. This only came up because I told her about a friend who had an accident and had to have her nose reset. I made the point the operation was horrible. It took my friend a week to get over the general anaesthetic and she's still bruised from eyebrows to chin after three weeks. Stacey wasn't bothered: it would be worth it. She'd be so happy with the results. I asked her what her partner thinks. He's against it. According to him, she's perfect as she is. Lovely man. He's a keeper, Stacey. They're also saving up to buy a house and plastic surgery is not on the list as even a remote possibility.
This idea that plastic surgery will make her happy isn't coming from Stacey's family or her workplace. Interestingly, her boss has given the staff a range of very simple 'uniforms' - black jeans or leggings and white t shirts - because she was fed up with the range of fashion accidents worn by her staff. So where is Stacey getting this from? Magazines. The salon is full of them. And TV. Stacey's partner works away a lot and she admits she watches all these gruesome medical documentaries on C4 and makeover shows that routinely now seem to offer plastic surgery.
I wish we could persuade women that plastic surgery is not 'aspirational'. Getting a house of your own, that's aspirational. Getting your partner a job in Glasgow so he doesn't have to go and work in the building trade in London to build up your savings, yes, definitely aspirational.
But maybe plastic surgery is just a passing fashion and will go the same way as the Victorian corset. I hope so.
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