The Iconic Cutter Scissors to the Silhouette of a WomaN

    A few things will take a man far with a woman: heavily-laden compliments and an impeccable talent for cutting hair. Rossano Ferretti gathered as much since the age of 14 when he started cutting the locks of his girlfriends, plural. He’s charmingly forthright: “I was the only boy amongst 17 girls [in hairdressing school], so I said, ‘Maybe this is my school.’” Over 30 years later, and after working closely with Giorgio and Gianni in the ’80s, creating some of the biggest supermodels’ dos, writing a book and a manual, and giving hundreds of seminars worldwide, Ferretti is at the top of the world. Literally, he is the world’s most expensive hairdresser, but beyond that, Ferretti has built an empire. 

    Ferretti has 20 salons and five schools across the globe dedicated to his own specially developed method of cutting (the Metodo Rossano Ferretti), a patented pair of scissors, and is Kérastase and Shu Uemura’s International Spokesperson. Not only that, but Ferretti is the Don Juan of hair with his inherent Italian sexuality and charisma, which is all part of the process. Inside his newest salon, in Beverly Hills, he executes a haircut with gusto and slipping in innuendo (like any good Italian man) between scissor snips. 

     Although Ferretti was born into a family of hair cutters (his grandfather was a barber and his mother owned a salon), this is not a story of nepotism. Quite contrary to the glamorous shop that might have serviced Audrey Hepburn’s locks in Roman Holiday, Ferretti’s mother’s salon was a two-chair outfit in the tiny village of Parma, where Ferretti grew up. “There were more cows and yaks than humans,” Ferretti says of Parma, a touching moment of remembrance had whilst sliding fingers through strands of his client’s hair. He begins cutting and his movements echo quick brushstrokes, poetic and with great precision.

    The Metodo Rossano Ferretti is regimented, though it’s not about repeated movements, but about the rubato (a freedom of rhythmic movement). Jan, one of Ferretti’s protégés, explains: “It’s an inner journey. Of course we learn technique, but mainly we learn how to make a woman beautiful.” From looking at the natural jawline and cheek contour to following the subtlety of how a woman moves, it’s really about identifying and interacting with each individual woman.

    The teachers of Ferretti’s schools (under the tutelage of Ferretti’s sister) implore their students to forget everything they learned about hair. “We teach how to use the scissor, and how to move the body. We give dance classes,” he says with a grin.

    As understanding the intimate movements of a woman remains key, Ferretti keeps his salons private and serene. He designs and decorates every one of his shops with a black-and-white minimalism, accented by simple green and white flowers. He points to a gorgeous vintage chandelier in the front of the Beverly Hills spa. “I found that at a [flea] market,” he says. Same with the couch, which he reupholstered in men’s suiting fabric. “It’s not hard to become the next factory salon, or the next 20-person salon with 20-chair rent. You can do that; I respect that. But it’s not my way. I want you and me, we are one team now. We create one thing together, and there, you can build beauty—personalized beauty, your beauty. Not her beauty, not his beauty: your beauty. But if they treat you like a chicken?” Ferretti trails off. He dismays the concept of the factory salon. Personal respect remains paramount in Ferretti’s world, particularly respect for “the courage to be a woman, which is not easy.”

    As we leave the salon, Ferretti urges his client to email him and report how she likes her hair. Then, he bids goodnight, and warns, “Don’t have too much sex! Have a normal nice night, maybe some normal sex, but not a lot. You don’t want to ruin your hair.” Ah, the challenges and courage to be a woman indeed.