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Updated: June 3, 2025
"Merci bien," said the coiffeur, fervently, as he counted the cash. "Would that all customers' heads lent themselves so easily to artistic treatment!" "And when will my friend's wig be ready?" said the "Princess." "Madame Valière! What are you saying there? Monsieur will set to work when I bring him the fifty francs." "Mais non, madame. I commence immediately.
The countess had already been in the hands of her Parisian coiffeur for some hours. The count wore a suit of blue velvet. The price of embroidery in silver and pearls on his coat would have furnished hundreds of wretched, starving families with bread. His diamond shoe-buckles would almost have sufficed to pay the army, which had gone unpaid for months.
The coiffeur, like a good man of business, eagerly endorsed the suggestion. "Perfectly, madame." "But if one's head should change!" said Madame Valière, trembling with excitement at the vivid imminence of the visioned wig. "Souvent femme varie, madame," said the coiffeur. "But it is the inside, not the outside of the head."
The girl has tight new shoes to make her feet look as small as possible; the coiffeur dresses her hair; and she is very proud of her appearance when, squeezed into proper shape and decked out in her new clothes, she sets off to church.
But her waved hair, fresh from the weekly visit of the professional coiffeur, remained in the most perfect order. G.J. looked round the room. It was getting very shabby. Its pale enamelled shabbiness and the tawdry ugliness of nearly every object in it had never repelled and saddened him as they did then.
I consoled Desmarais for his misfortune, and hastened to my uncle with a determination to reveal to him all that had occurred. Sir William was in his dressing-room, and his gentleman was very busy in adorning his wig. I entreated him to dismiss the /coiffeur/, and then, without much preliminary detail, acquainted him with all that had passed between the Abbe and myself.
It was also significant that the dust which had gathered in her hair during the long journey from Delgratz required a visit to a coiffeur. These straws showed how the wind blew, he fancied. And it was good to see the way Joan's face kindled when Alec clasped her in his arms. They said little then.
I was "Présidente d'Honneur" and always wore my badge pinned conspicuously on my coat. It was a great day for the little town. Weeks before the fête we used to hear all about it from the coiffeur when he came to the château to shave the gentlemen. He played the big drum and thought the success of the whole thing depended on his performance.
Her hair was not red, but of a lustrous bronze, amazingly abundant, and dressed in waves with the careful skill of a coiffeur. Half-shut, smouldering eyes had met his for an instant at dinner across the table and had told him she was a woman subtle and complex. Slightest shades of meaning she could convey with a lift of the eyebrow or an intonation of the musical voice.
If this be true it will explain the fact that many an actress who is beautiful outside the theatre seems plain on the boards because her costume does not suit her style, because her figure is sacrificed for the sake of the frock, because dainty little features are overwhelmed by gowns of strident colour and overshadowed by terrific headgear. The coiffeur is often to be blamed.
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