The Barber of Paris

Moustached gendarme by objetsparis.

Gene wears a beard, always has, as long as I've known him, and it sometimes gets a bit shaggy. One of our BHV purchases recently was a beard trimmer that works on 220 voltage. But before using it he made an appointment at a barber. A real barber, with barber chairs and hot towels and stuff.

This is a shop I had spotted several years ago in my wanderings through the Marais and noted because of its out-of-time look. The sign hanging outside is the shape of a mustache. It's called Alain and is near our apartment, and last week Gene went to have his beard trimmed.

Because we were pretty sure the two barbers didn't speak English, Gene practiced how to say "tailler la barbe" and went off hoping for the best. He came home with a great trim, a nice haircut and a grin on his face. He had had his first "real" conversation in French, without me along to buffer the rocky spots, and he had loved it. They had chattered away together and apparently the barber now knows where we're from, what we're doing, how long we're staying, and maybe Gene's mother's maiden name for all I know.

And Alain is not quite as old world as I thought. He was told to make his next appointment by email. 

Alain, Maitre Barbier

8 rue Saint-Claude

75003 Paris

01 42 77 55 80