Moy Moy was a beautiful young woman: she had black eyes, like the deepest pools,  and the most wonderful hair: thick, dark, glossy and straight. But cutting it was always difficult – both for her and for us. Moy hated anything happening around her face. She would bob her head frantically from one side to the other trying to avoid the approach of the scissors. The few times I took her to a parlour were stressful and exhausting for everyone.

For many years, our local barber used to come to the house. I had met Rashid in advance and explained how Moy Moy felt and he said he would try and work around it. We would set up a station on the verandah and prepare Moy as much as possible in advance. Cathleen and I would try to distract her as Rashid worked at lightning speed to minimize the trauma for her. He was incredibly patient and understanding and things got easier for Moy, though not perfect.

We (by which I mean I) didn’t know as much then as we do now about sensory processing sensitivities (SPS) or how people can be supported in such situations. Nowadays we recognize the reality of SPS and as far as possible, we all avoid things we don’t like. I never willingly eat yoghurt, for example, because it makes me gag. A friend of mine avoids large leaf plants. Who knows why? Who cares? But haircuts are, for many of us, something we just have to put up with. Had it been possible, Moy could have kept her hair long and never had a cut, but combing and brushing was also traumatic and would have happened every day rather than every 6 weeks.

So we kept doing it.

Getting a haircut is a simple rite-of-passage for most children. While it may be difficult at the toddler age, most children come to enjoy the process and look forward to choosing their style, often the crazier the better. 5-year-olds with mohawks, mushrooms or green streaks are not unusual and the summer “buzz cut” is an annual ritual in many homes. But for children like Moy Moy with sensory processing sensitivities, just thinking about it can be fraught with anxiety. The actual experience may result in an overwhelming cascade of unpleasant, even painful sensations.

At the other end of the story, many of the developmentally disabled young adults we work with have an interest and aptitude for the kind of skills a haircutting salon requires: laying out the scissors, combs and blades for the stylist, sweeping the floor when the cut is finished, the step-by-step process of giving a manicure or a pedicure, washing and folding the towels – the number of tasks a salon needs is vast.

What if we could combine the two groups? Imagine a hair salon which caters to children and adults with SPS while also serving as an employment training center for disabled adults. A salon where parents waiting to pick up their child after therapy can nip in for a quick trim from the stylist or a manicure by an intern. Such a jugalbandhi has never happened in India. Drum Roll! Ours will be the first.

We have just received funding from NYKAA to set up a full-scale salon in our new building. Our sensory stylist will be trained to work with kids with SPS as well as mentoring young adults interested in exploring a career in the world of beauty. Children will be offered social stories in advance of a cut, a Mood Meter for self-assessment when they arrive and fidget toys and weighted mats to help them cope during the cut. And if things are too difficult one day, we put it off for another. Visits to the salon can be as long-drawn out as needed – it’s only haircuts in the building. And everyone is a friend.

For trainees, it’s another career option. For kids with SPS, it’s a welcome change from the usual traumatic and harrowing parlor experience they’ve had to endure.

For India? What an AWESOME new idea.