There is a salon every quilter visits, whether she books it or not. The chair is the one in front of your machine, the dryer is the steam off the iron, and the styling product is a full afternoon of batting static. Nobody leaves looking the way they came in. Quilt Hair Don't Care is the appointment book for our wild-haired regulars, the birds and friends of Chic Quilter who wear the results proudly. Let's see who is on the schedule today.
Morning appointments: the curl clients
Curlene Spoolworth arrives first, a sunny yellow bird on a branch with a rainbow crest and little spools dangling below her like earrings. Velma Nightwing follows in plum, her dark, feathery storm of hair freshly teased, a glass of red on one side and her machine on the other. Snipsy Wren asked for volume and got it, a crown of rainbow swirls piled high over a tiny machine and a pair of shears. And Puffin Bea brought her own stack of folded fabric to read under the dryer, blinking out from a cloud of curls so big it has its own weather.
Afternoon: the dramatic cuts
Ziggy Bobbin flings his green wings wide to show off a spiky rainbow crest, and Frizzle Mae in sky blue shrieks with delight at her green spikes, perched on a nest of scraps. Lady Plumeadora sweeps in trailing peacock feathers with a tangle of teal curls, ready for her close-up. Peaches Plume and Ruckus Jay each hold up a quilt block like a photo of the look they want, and Pip Patchlet sits quietly on a branch with a pieced quilt draped beside her, hoping for a trim. Chaos Finch never made an appointment. She simply arrived, shrieking, and sat down on the nearest quilt.
Walk-ins from out of town
Then the door opens and in comes Big Foot, Big Hair, fresh from a long session at his machine, and he is not the only one. Big Foot's Hairy Adventure has him striding in from a quilted countryside with his machine under his arm, and in Big's Foot Path he strolls beneath a rainbow. Llama Fashion wants to talk about her towering updo and patchwork coat, Patchwork Royalty lowers her cat-eye glasses from inside a cozy scarf, and Noodle Beakman, tall and orange with a red flame of feathers, simply states the salon motto on his way to a stack of fabric: I don't care.
For the quilter who books her own chair
These are for the friend who answers the door with batting in her hair, the guild pal who sews through every bad hair day, and anyone who thinks a good frizz means a good Saturday. Choose the regular who wears her hair most like she does. The salon closes when the last bobbin runs out, and tips are always welcome, preferably in fat quarters.
Written by Judy. Thanks for reading.
