Equality and quality to women's Turkish bath - a business idea

Turkish baths were originally designed for men on their way to war to relax their muscles and mind but has now become a place of relaxation for any man -exactly, any man. This is a plea for Turkish women to stand up and demand equality and quality in the Turkish bath.

Last week I visited one of these baths I had heard so much about. They sounded like amazing chambers of secrets, traditions and massages. Needless to say I was disappointed. I pay for the entrance and a massage and I am escorted to the changing rooms. The changing rooms are nice but reminded me slightly of those that are at public swimming pools. I do not think much of it being so nervous and everything since it is my first time and I am going alone. I have been told that no swimsuit or bikini is required so I get undressed and I am handed a towel to wrap around myself. I am given a locker where I can put my belongings to, just like in swimming pools but this is not a criticism.

 I am guided to another room. Fairly small to what I have imagined and much less magnificent than I was told by the men who had described the mens side. Both sides of the doors have stone tables for massages and in the middle of the room there is a pool filled with hot water. I say hot but I heard afterwards that in the mens side the hot pool is nut cracking hot so maybe I should describe the pool nice and warm then. On the other massage table there is a woman in her bikini getting a massage while her two small children are playing around the pool and splashing the water. So you can delete the word relaxing from the womens side straight away.

The lady who guided me to the room tells me to wash first before entering the pool which is fine until I have to figure out the washing part. Highly confused by the fact that the woman getting a massage is wearing a bikini I stand there not knowing what to do. The woman giving her a massage is also wearing a bikini. I find the situation incredibly awkward. The massager tries to show me that I need to use the white plastic bowl (which in the men’s side is metal and looks antique) to throw water on myself. Okay, that is fine, that’s what we do before sauna in Finland as well but the mystery remains whether I should take the towel off or keep it on. I have never been as puzzled as trying to ask the woman should I take it off or keep it on. After a while I find out that I should keep the towel on which makes no sense to me because now it is going to get wet. I keep the towel on, wash myself and approach the pool. Now the question is whether I go in with the towel. Thankfully that is sorted out quickly when the woman nods at me encouragingly and I step in.

The water is warm and I have no trouble sitting in it. It would be decently relaxing without the kids throwing water from the wash basins to the pool. I can’t relax so I just sit there staring at the wall. Finally the woman leaves with her kids and it’s quiet. The massage woman comes back and asks me to come to the massage table and lay down as it is my turn for my massage. The massage is okay and I do enjoy it but nothing to do with the one on the men’s side where I’ve heard they are very rough cracking every bone in your body. This massage is a gentle one with no effects after five minutes which disappoints me. I wanted someone to be very strong and physical nearly violent and make me feel the effects still the next day. But that doesn’t happen. It is also very awkward because of my nakedness even though the massager ignores it very well. After the massage I get back into the pool because I need to kill some time. I had thought I would manage to spend more than an hour there but it has hardly been thirty minutes. A couple of more women come into the bath their swimsuits and bikinis on which makes me want to disappear.

 After another 10 minutes of sitting in the pool I get up and go back to the changing room where the woman who guided me hands me dry towels, none of that wrapping a towel around me and walking me to a seat like on the men’s side though. I take a seat in the corner of the changing room. It is just a swimming pool changing room with rooms you can get changed in and in the middle of the room there are four more of the white plastic garden chairs that I am sitting on and a table. Afterwards I hear that the men’s side has a fountain in the middle of the room and no white plastic garden chairs. I see a drinks menu on the table and have a look at it thinking about ordering a soda but nobody comes to ask if I want or need anything so I just sit there staring at the palms of my hands. I am really thirsty so I decide to get dressed and leave because I know I have a water bottle in my bag.

I leave disappointed and upset that the women’s side was such a let-down. I understand that the bath tradition is originally for men but 2012 nobody loses if the women’s one was made to the same standards. I cannot believe that women have not thought that it is not quite equal and I don’t understand why they accept it. If I were a Turkish woman I would open my own high quality Turkish bath for women with no white plastic bowls, garden chairs, warm water and gentle massages. If you won’t do it for the p at least do it for the money - it is a business idea.

Why finding The One (hairdresser) is important to your mental health

Going to hairdressers can be a very scary thing because these people have the power to define the way you look for months. I am very picky about who does my hair because I have realized a bad hair day can turn a good day into a bad day and make me feel worthless. This is why getting my hair done well is always an investment. You wouldn't think that hair has so much power over the way we view ourselves. Good hair days I think 'Oh maybe I'm alright you know I like the way I look, I don't mind being me' and bad hair days trust me I feel like jumping in front of the train.

I used to come home crying from hairdressers when I didn't like my hair so I am always so nervous about getting my hair done. But I did it today... and I haven't made up my mind what I think about my hair now. I think it could be a teeny weeny bit too short. I am very picky. I can't decide if I look like a teenage boy or fashionable and nice girl (obviously the look I was going for). But I decided that I will wait until tomorrow, wash my hair in the morning and style it myself before I panic. The trick is also to try on some nice clothes and put on make up because otherwise it doesn't matter how good the hair looks it will look shit anyway. 

In my opinion hairdressers have the most important job making me feel good about myself. My self confidence (or the lack of it) depends on my hair. And if my self confidence relies on my hair so does then my mental health. That is why I was so incredibly happy when the first time in England I went to hairdressers and he was THE ONE. I had been nervous that nobody in the country could dye or cut my hair right since it is not the typical English hair type but Scandinavian blond, floaty and thin but I think my hairdresser has done better job than a Finnish hairdresser ever has and I have never come out crying after a hair cut or dye here.

Today is the first time I am not sure about my hair. I try not to dwell on it (writing a blog about it is obviously not doing that!) because I know I have a habit of creating worst case scenarios in my head. The problem of judging the hair straight after hairdressers is that you haven't styled it yourself. Hairdressers have a tendency to style you hair into curls (always curls for some odd reason!!) and the way you would never do it yourself. In a way it is nice but you won't look like yourself at all and that freaks me out. Curls make me look stupid - either a 21 year old wanna be fairytale princess or an old lady and I wasn't going for either of those looks believe me. But I have grown up to realize that I need to wait until the next day to decide if its a disaster or just a shiny new me.