This attractive look from the 1990s television show 90210 is what most porteños aspire to achieve!
Remember about a month ago when I was complaining that I couldn’t find a good barber in Buenos Aires? I even contacted this man, an expat from America, who wrote a blog post about his haircut misadventures in the Paris of South America. I have yet to meet an expat who hasn’t a haircut horror story to share with me.
Sometimes I think that Buenos Aires is where good taste goes to die. Here’s why:
1. Facial piercings. There are more people per capita with bad facial piercings in Buenos Aires, than anywhere I have ever visited. It’s a rampant epidemic. I don’t get how the porteños don’t recognize how stupid they look.
2. Denim on denim. Argentines love denim. It is not uncommon to see a porteño man wearing, in combination, denim jeans, with a denim jacket and a denim collared shirt. They fucking love it. I don’t know why, perhaps denim is cheaper to own or maybe denim represents one’s higher socio-economic status? I have no freakin’ idea. All I know is that it’s gross.
3. Warts. A lot of people here have warts. On their fingers, on their chest, on their face, and I’m certain, based on their sexual proclivities, on their genitals. I don’t know why it is. The water? I don’t get it. One day I was on the subte and everyone in my car had a wart. It was the freakiest thing I have ever experienced in my whole life.
4. Brain viruses. Every porteño I know has a friend who has been hospitalized because they contracted a brain virus. Granted this has nothing to do with bad taste, but I wanted to bring it to the attention of my readers in the event that you never hear from me again. I may have contracted one of these mutant viruses and am in a coma in a shitty public hospital.
5. BAD HAIR. The mullet is alive and well in Buenos Aires. The most coveted hairstyle is the mullet with dreads. When you find someone with multiple warts, who has a mullet with dreads, wearing nothing but denim, you have achieved the trifecta and are free to return home to your native country. If they also have facial piercings and collapse in front of you from a brain virus, I would suggest you commit suicide. You’ve experienced all you need to in this life. You will be rewarded in heaven.
So I’m rambling. The good news is that I found a good barber. His name is Federico and he works at Style Haircuts in Barrio Norte. You should call and make an appointment first though as he’s very popular and, entirely unrelated, not too bad to look at.
Directions:
1. Take Subte D and get off in Callao Station.
2. Walk from Callao to Santa Fe Av.
3. Turn right from Santa Fe Av and keep walking until you reach Rodriguez Peña
4. Make a left on Rodriguez Peña and Spray is on your left (I think)
What I love about Federico is that he can understand English but refuses to speak it. Last night we had a lovely conversation in Spanglish. What I gathered was that he thinks he’s a magician, and compared himself to David Copperfield. Whatever. I just smiled and nodded and every now and again would say “dale” which means “okay” in Spanish.
That’s all folks!
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I possess great compassion and seek to be of service to others. 
