Rula Lutfi, a self-described “Bergdorf blonde,” has been giving back during the pandemic, by volunteering with the charity God’s Love We Deliver. But not before she found a hair stylist to blow-dry her locks for $250.
“I didn’t want to leave the house a hot mess,” said the 34-year-old real estate broker from Turtle Bay. “I wore a hair net and mask, but at least my hair looked great.”
Since Gov. Cuomo’s order shuttering non-essential businesses, including personal-care services, there’s been follicular fallout for blow-out addicts like Lufti.
“I would look in the mirror and think, ‘OMG, I can’t do this anymore,’” she told The Post.
She put out a plea on social media, hoping to find a stylist willing to risk his or her license. Sure enough, someone from a high-end Manhattan salon responded. “He said, ‘I’ll do it — but don’t dare tell anyone,’” Lufti explained.
The masked stylist has now made three house calls to her apartment, charging $250 for a blow-dry that normally costs $60. “It’s supply and demand,” Lufti said. “I had no choice.”
And she isn’t the only local woman for whom quarantining in LuluLemon and exposed roots isn’t cutting it.
Earlier this month, an Upper East Side personal concierge and her teenage daughter were smuggled into a “fancy-ish” second-floor nail salon in Midtown for a private mani-pedi session.
“They opened just for me,” the concierge, 42, told The Post of the place where she has been a regular for a decade. She dropped $140 for the favor — in cash, because “No one wants a paper trail.”
She’s planning to return soon to get fake eyelashes applied — a treatment that normally costs $150, but will now run $200.
‘We’re not supposed to be open, but I have to make a living and people need services. These women need to be clean for their husbands.’
- Baila,a licensed cosmetologist with a home salon
So far, these women haven’t endured much public shaming — perhaps because they don’t see many people.
The concierge, who works from home, admitted that she feels too self-conscious about looking good to post any photos on Instagram — or even to let The Post use her name for this story. “I did a Zoom call,” she said, “and someone said, ‘You did your hair?!’”
Baila, 41, is a licensed cosmetologist with a home salon mostly catering to wig-wearing women in Crown Heights’ Orthodox Jewish community, and her appointment book is still full.
“People want beauty,” said Baila, who asked that her last name not be used. “We’re not supposed to be open, but I have to make a living and people need services. These women need to be clean for their husbands.”
She’s even picked up extra work during the pandemic, doing mani/pedis, massage and waxing at a nearby home spa.
“But we’re always afraid someone might snitch,” Baila said, adding that bookings are spaced out so clients won’t run into anyone they know.
And it’s not just salon workers who are bending the rules. One UES filmmaker, who asked The Post to withhold his name, is resuming Botox appointments this weekend with his dermatologist, who is officially only open for emergencies.
“I told him, ‘I feel like a dry grape,’” said the 41-year-old. “This is an emergency — my wrinkles are bothering me.”