Raplapla & A Visit to The Hairdresser's
Thursday, September 26, 2024
Enjoy today's story about my appointment at the neighborhood salon as I get ready for an upcoming Mediterranean cruise with my dad and my two sisters. Leaving for a mini family reunion soon…See you in a few weeks!
TODAY’S WORD: RAPLAPLA
: flat, lifeless; tired-looking
A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse
This fall, my dog and I are in a competition to see who can lose the most hair. “I think you’re winning,” my hairdresser says, shaking more of my hair out of his hands.
“You should see my house,” I laugh, “it’s carpeted with fur! Maybe Ricci’s winning?”
After some initial plaisanteries, I begin to close my eyes. I’ve finally made it to the salon, where I’ll spend two hours trying to avoid eye contact with the woman in the mirror. I don’t like la cicatrice on her forehead, and her cheeks have tiny red veins I know are there, even if I’ve covered them with fond de teint. And though I carefully washed it a day before (my hairdresser doesn’t like a greasy scalp) my hair is limp and stringy. There’s an amusing French word for this not-so-amusing condition of flat and lifeless locks: raplapla.
Too bad raplapla is wasted on lifeless locks because it would make a fine interjection—as it always takes a bit of oomph to drag me out of my nest and into this swivel chair, especially during l’heure de la sieste. Why is it that hair appointments and Amazon deliveries always seem to fall during these most delectable hours?
“Les mèches et une coupe, s’il vous plaît”… The last time I phoned the salon for these was three months ago for a wedding. Three months before that, a trip with my best friend was my motivation to aller chez le coiffeur. And before that, it was my 56th birthday. A grand total of four trips a year—and if it weren’t for these social occasions, it would be even fewer, and I’d go around with my hair tied back and covered in a hat for as long as I could get away with it.
I hear door chimes and look up from my swivel chair. A couple walks in. Bonjour, messieurs dames, they say, greeting a room full of clients in various stages of transformation. With no more available chairs in this tiny salon, the man settles in at l’espace shampoing. How lovely to come to the salon together! I think, studying the sweethearts, each in shoes with Velcro closures. I make a mental note to bring my surefooted husband next time—but there’s no way Jean-Marc would wait two hours in a room full of fancy lotions and potions. Give him a field of musky grapes and some sécateurs, and he’d cut his own hair if he could—and dye it purple with le jus de raisin.
My eyes water from the toxic fumes of peroxide as Cyril begins the technique known as le balayage, painting thick white cream onto another lock of my hair and wrapping each section in plastic. I look away from the thinning mop he’s working on and ask about his recent trip to Corsica.
C’était merveilleux! Le fromage Corse, les saucissons, les cascades, les piscines naturelles—and you can take your dog with you everywhere!
I think about my upcoming trip with Dad and my sisters. We’ll meet in Barcelona for a Mediterranean cruise…including a stop in Corsica. Imagine being able to take my dog—that would be heaven! Just as Le Paradis is paved in gold, our ship would be paved in platinum—tufts and tufts of it, both Ricci’s and mine!
I smile at the thought and glance around the salon. More customers have arrived with thinning hair and graying roots. The creases and scars on our faces reflect experiences, adventure, and a quiet confidence that, in spite of our collective raplapla—our limp and lifeless locks—life is full! I look back at the woman in the mirror. This time, she has a pleasant smile. The critical gaze is gone. We’re all the same, really. In our day-to-day lives, we’re all just trying to keep our hair on.
***
Note to French readers: the above idiom, to keep your hair on, can mean a few things, including ne pas s'en faire, or to not worry too much about a situation. You could say to a friend: Ne t'en fais pas (calm down or take it easy). Picture taken several years ago at another neighborhood salon. I liked the piggybank, or tirelire.
COMMENTS
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FRENCH VOCABULARY
Click here to listen to Jean-Marc pronounce the French
les plaisanteries = jokes, lighthearted remarks
la cicatrice = scar
le fond de teint = foundation (makeup)
raplapla = limp or lifeless
l’heure de la sieste = nap time
les mèches = highlights
s’il vous plaît = please
une coupe = cut
aller chez le coiffeur = to go to the hairdresser
bonjour, messieurs dames = hello, ladies and gentlemen
l’espace shampoing (m) = shampoo station
le sécateur (m) = pruning shears
le jus de raisin = grape juice
le balayage = a hair coloring technique where dye is painted onto hair in a sweeping motion
C’était merveilleux = It was wonderful
le fromage corse = Corsican cheese
le saucisson = dried sausage
les piscines naturelles = natural swimming pools
le paradis = paradise
With Ricci, last month, enjoying a few last swims before fall.
REMERCIEMENTS
With sincere thanks to the following readers for their recent donations. Your continued support brings life to this journal and keeps it going. Merci du fond du cœur! — Kristi
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My mom's solution to raplapla--or lifelessness--may be to weave flowers in your hair, especially beautiful fleurs sèches from a lovely autumn walk. I hope you enjoy today's introspective stroll through our neighborhood salon. Take care, prenez soin de vous, and see you in a few weeks.
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For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety