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“Hair wash, massage and eyebrows,” instructs Mary Lee, speaking to her assistant. Immediately, products are plucked off shelves, the air conditioner is turned on and curtains are drawn. Work begins.
“They are all my regulars,” she says, pointing inside. “Can’t tell you how long I can talk to you. This is a busy time for me,” she says, but sits down for a conversation much longer than anticipated.
Rose Beauty Parlour behind the busy Vannanthurai bus stop in Besant Nagar, has a no-nonsense yet generous personality that it has borrowed from its owner. The single-room parlour partitioned by sliding doors, has thick leather salon chairs that are permanently reclined as the levers do not work. There are several crosses, scissors and combs, threads to remove eye brows, tins of hair colour, and boxes of loose powder that make the room smell like roses.
Bits of Mary’s Oriental connection sit proudly on display — there is a calendar with Chinese dates, posters of fuk (pronounced fook in Chinese, meaning luck), and several statues of Buddhas.
“Luck is very important to the Chinese. We replace the fuk posters during Chinese New Year. This year, my cousin from Calcutta sent it to me. I think it has helped. But enough about that. Let me begin my story,” she says.
Uncovering etymology
A quest to find the connection between Chennai and ‘Chinese beauty parlour’, lead us to Mary’s parlour. She is one of several people of Chinese origin, who moved with her family far away from home to establish businesses, in the hope of prosperity after their families fled battles of internal strife in 20th Century China. It was a time when the men prefixed restaurants with the word ‘Chinese’, while women did the same with beauty parlours.
When asked why ‘beauty parlours’ and not other professions, Joe Thomas Karackattu, Associate Professor at the Humanities and Social Sciences Department at IIT Madras, who has made two films on South India’s historical connections with the Chinese, says that the ideal choice of occupation was to deal in leather which other native communities here were weary of indulging in, owing to religious considerations.
“There is no specific reason for their choice of beauty parlours excepting the low barriers to entry in the art and craft of beautifying the self/other. You didn’t really need a degree or training (as in specialised equipment in medicine or industry) and hence the entry requirements would have been easier. That to my mind is the best explanation.”
However, the Kaos, Lees, Lamas and Chens, who have been in the business for a minimum of 40 years now, have a different answer. “Aren’t most ancient beauty secrets from China,” Mary asks.
The earliest team of Susan Lama’s Hong Kong Beauty Parlour
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement
Far away from home
“I was born in Calcutta’s Chinatown in 1959 to my Chinese parents who were from Peking. They had fled the war, I am not sure which one, and arrived in India to begin a peaceful life. I was never interested in studying. I loved fashion and had an interest in taking care of myself. So around Class VIII, my friend and I begged our parents to let us work at the parlour. All I wanted to be was a beautician. My father told me that if I left without finishing my studies, I would suffer, but I didn’t listen. He was right. It was very difficult initially,” says Mary, sweeping the silver hair away from her face.
She continues: “For three and a half years, I trained at Chen’s Beauty Parlour, Bengaluru, learning the art of facial, head massage, manicure, pedicure, threading and waxing. By that time, I had married Mr. John Lee, who descends from the Hakka region of China. He was interested in exploring business opportunities in the South. That is why we arrived in Chennai in 1985, a city far away from home. After a year of working at a local parlour, we saved up to begin our own venture here in Besant Nagar. There were hardly any people who lived here back then. My house was in Adyar and the last bus back home was at 6pm. How everything has changed,” she says, ruminating.
Mary snaps back after pausing to take a nostalgia-induced break. ”I speak Chinese at home and am fluent in Mandarin and Hakka. There are not many like us here though. It is a small community. But the number of customers who come are large and steady,” she says.
The earliest team of Susan Lama’s Hong Kong Beauty Parlour
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement
Arlene Kao Chaurasia whose parents began Eves beauty parlour, Chennai’s first Chinese beauty parlour on Pantheon Road (which later shifted to College Road), in 1968, adds that it has now become essential to protect the name, methods and etiquette followed at their chain of parlours. “People expect quality and we deliver because we pay attention. Our clients, their daughters and granddaughters come to our parlour till date. We know their preferences,” she says.
Arlene says that she was practically raised by her parents at the parlour and learnt entirely by watching. As a young girl, she weighed in on haircuts, leading eventually, to taking over the parlour. Her brother David Kao, runs his own chain of parlours under the same name. Arlene is sure that her daughter will take over as soon as she is interested in make up. “I am training her,” she says. David’s son is also likely to enter the line, he says.
Susan Lama, who was born to Hakka parents settled in Kolkata, has seen her fair share of India. She has worked in parlours at Mumbai, Delhi, Mysuru and Bengaluru. When her chef husband wanted to settle down, they moved to Chennai in 1997 in search of peace and quiet. Joined by her sister and brother-in-law, the quartet began Hong Kong Beauty Parlour in Chetpet and Kim Ling Specialty Chinese Restaurant in Anna Nagar. The aim was to make ₹500 a day at the parlour. “It was big money back then,” she says.
Susan says that it is easy to determine why their brand of beauty parlours stand the test of time despite competing against fancy new places full of ring lights, powerful blow dries and ‘show-sha’. “The parlour is an extension of my house. The girls who work there are my family. They are sweet and polite to customers and take care of one another. The job gets done without too much noise and fanfare. Most customers have known the girls who work at my parlour for years. There is a connection,” she says.
Susan Lama with her family and friends at Kim Ling, Anna Nagar.
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement
Mary , who lives in the same complex as her shop, agrees. She says that she is usually just a call away despite requests at odd hours. “I open at 9.30am sharp but if someone needs help with make up or a hair do, I don’t mind opening earlier. I know my customers. They have been coming to me for years,” she says.
Mary and Susan say that though the Chinese aspects of their personality are slowly slipping away, they still hold onto certain traditions. The Chinese New Year is the most preferred festivity to be part of. At Mary’s, where Chinese is still spoken at home, a Peking duck in honour of her ancestry is cooked along with noodles and other delicacies. Susan says that she prays to all gods and hence does a puja to the sky at her husband’s Chinese restaurant. The staff from both these places are present and a huge feast is prepared.
“No Chinese new year is complete without the exchange of the red envelop full of cash. It brings luck to our homes and our businesses and is hence essential. After all, it is all about fuk, no?” Mary says.
Published – September 18, 2024 08:56 pm IST
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