My father was a sergeant with the Connecticut state police. My mother was a hairstylist.
It was my dream to have a beauty parlour in our village and to live near my family in Sinjar.
I hate the only one of my book jackets when I was made up professionally, my hair made into a smooth bell.
I still go to a salon where a gal does my hair, and I don't know if it's because I'm a celebrity but by the time I leave there, we are eating chicken and talking and screaming.
I put a lot of trust in my stylist, Micaela Erlanger.
There were so many pretty girls coming into the salon as clients, and others working in the salon. And I thought, 'Hmm. This is rather nice.'
I have about two manicures a year, maybe three haircuts. I used to get blowdries all the time, and I never did my own hair. Now I'm last in the queue - the focus is on my home.
My father had the main barber- and beauty-supply business in the African-American community in Buffalo.
First time I sang, I was singing Alicia Keys in the bathroom of my mom's beauty shop. I was six.
I get my highlights touched up with Susan Henry at Shades in Beverly Hills. She developed hypo-allergenic hair color products with no ammonia because she's allergic to others; she's an incredible colorist. She does balayage instead of the foils, and I'll go and she will do my entire head of highlights in an hour.
I had really long hair, and we had this hairdresser, Laverne, that was in Athens. And she did my hair up really big. And she said, 'Honey, when you hang your head over the bed and make love, that hair is not going to move.'
I had my back waxed once by two women... and at one point they said, Do you mind if we take a break?
I don't get manicures, pedicures. I don't get my hair done as often as I should.
I sat in the barber's chair in David Miller's makeup shop, hours and hours of trial and error. While David poked at me with his crusty brushes, I grew more and more profane. That's how I started to find the voice of Freddy.
I was a hairstylist in London up until the age of 21, working in Sloane Square.
My mom was a hairdresser. My aunt was a hairdresser. My brother was a hairdresser. My sisters are hairdressers.
The bikini waxing, after we go there you can't turn back.
I liked to hang around my mom's beauty salon, watching her do hair.
I always wanted to be a hairdresser.
I made most of my living doing beauty, because I was never really the fashion person.
I don't know why a beauty salon would have a cop's hat and the curling irons are not deadly unless they're still plugged in and they're hot. So I'm not quite sure about that. But I don't know who remembers anymore that you can ignite spray cans, plus there aren't really any spray cans anymore 'cause that was destroying the ozone layer. So I'm - actually, I'll have to go with they chased him with the curling irons.
The world of women fascinates me, probably because my sister and I were always together as children in our mother's salon after school and after ballet classes. We used to talk about what we saw: the different ladies who would come in, all with their distinctive personalities.
