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"  It&amp;#039;s T-minus three hours till the London show of Rihanna-beloved, Canadian-born designer Todd Lynn, and I&amp;#039;m sandwiched in a huddle of styling assistants, jockeying for a sliver of backstage space. For the first time, I&amp;#039;m not here to take notes and ask questions\u2014I&amp;#039;m here to create. So I watch feverishly as lead hairstylist Mark Hampton mousses a model&amp;#039;s hair, layer by layer\u2014the first step of many, and the only demonstration he&amp;#039;ll give. Undercover as a backstage hair assistant, I have one chance to memorize it, then execute it myself or risk blowing my cover. Beauty editors are often accosted for help with hairstyling, or makeup application, or nail art, or brow shaping. And while I might be able to scribble an acceptable cat eye and contour a jawline\u2014JV skills\u2014when it comes to hair, I can barely style my own, let alone that of another person. My modest regimen goes something like this: wash, braid, air-dry, bun, repeat. A blow-dryer is never used, and a &amp;quot;look&amp;quot; is out of the question. But if I were going to pretend to know what I&amp;#039;m doing, Toni&amp;amp;amp;Guy\u2014a brand whose Instagram feed regularly includes reassuringly attainable text-only posts such as &amp;quot;boyfriend tee and textured braid&amp;quot;\u2014seems like the best place for a girl like me. The company ethos is that clothes, hair, and attitude should work together to convey a single message, which also makes it a clear fit for anything-goes London Fashion Week. Related: Couture Hair Beauty Tips You Can Actually Try at Home So when I&amp;#039;m invited to work backstage with the Toni&amp;amp;amp;Guy team, I see it as a twofold opportunity\u2014one, to up my own hair game, and two, to see what it&amp;#039;s really like to be in the high-stakes, high-speed world of backstage fashion week beauty. Hampton is convinced that the best way to get the authentic experience is through total immersion: shedding my reporter role and going incognito. Hampton, who spent seven years assisting fashion week all-star Guido Palau in New York, Paris, and Milan, learned all his best tricks watching a master at work. &amp;quot;Guido is all about the tiny details that transform a girl from plain Jane into this really cool, understated thing,&amp;quot; Hampton says, and following in his footsteps evidently took some Tony Robbins\u2013style ambition: &amp;quot;If you want to be amazing, then you have to dedicate yourself. You can&amp;#039;t commit halfheartedly and expect to achieve success.&amp;quot; Related: The Single Best Hair Cut for Every Face Shape: The Midi Before Hampton&amp;#039;s demo, I&amp;#039;m introduced to his crew\u2014a mix of &amp;quot;misfits that are so good they shouldn&amp;#039;t be assisting,&amp;quot; he says. And during the off-season, most of them don&amp;#039;t. The team is made up of professional salon and editorial stylists handpicked by Hampton. Italian hairdresser Federico Vazzoloretto, for example, has been in the industry for over two decades. At the head of the pack is Tim Aylward, a young stylist from Barrow Salon in San Francisco who, rumor has it, paid his own way to London for the experience. &amp;quot;I haven&amp;#039;t met an assistant who&amp;#039;s that good, actually ever,&amp;quot; Hampton says of Aylward. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m Melanie,&amp;quot; I say. &amp;quot;But everyone calls me Mel.&amp;quot; It&amp;#039;s not unusual for a stylist to use a pseudonym, often to avoid duplicate names within one salon or team, but my new name is mostly an attempt to get into character. &amp;quot;How do you know Mark?&amp;quot; Aylward asks. I tell him the backstory Hampton and I had concocted: We met through friends, I&amp;#039;m &amp;quot;supernew,&amp;quot; and I&amp;#039;ve just finished assisting the legendary Odile Gilbert at Rodarte back in New York (forgive me, Odile). Miraculously, Aylward gives me an impressed brow raise. I&amp;#039;m in! The team snakes through the dark, cavernous Drury Club, where Lynn&amp;#039;s show is being held, massive styling kits in tow. We decamp to a small, covered parking lot that&amp;#039;s the designated backstage. In under 10 minutes, the team unpacks and sets up eight styling stations with blow-dryers, brushes, and products. All we need now are models.  Suddenly my mind is awash in worst-case scenarios. What happens if a model comes from an earlier show with problem hair? &amp;quot;It just happened to me in New York,&amp;quot; Hampton says. &amp;quot;A girl arrived with dreadlocks.&amp;quot; His only solution: &amp;quot;Take her to the bathroom and shampoo her in the sink with hand soap! I had to!&amp;quot; What if they show up with extensions? Hampton reassures me this is one of the lesser evils. &amp;quot;Hairspray dissolves the glue and takes them straight out. It is a bit of wasted time, but you can work with it.&amp;quot; I press on: How on earth do you take so many different women, with countless different cuts and textures, and produce a uniform product? &amp;quot;If I have a chance to be at the hair test before the show, I&amp;#039;ll peek at the models&amp;#039; pictures and make sure there&amp;#039;s a plan if we need to give hip-length hair to a girl with a pixie,&amp;quot; Aylward says; for that, he comes armed with extensions, wigs, and braids. For Lynn&amp;#039;s show, the girls are supposed to look as though they&amp;#039;d had their hair in a ponytail and just removed the band, revealing a visible dent. It&amp;#039;s tough, deconstructed, and utterly cool, just like the clothes, a rebellious collection of rocker pieces inspired by William Burroughs&amp;#039; 1971 novel, The Wild Boys. But this is fashion week, so the look of a released ponytail is hardly as simple as it sounds. Hampton splits the mousse-saturated hair into small sections, then coils them into irregular spirals and pins each at the nape of the neck before blasting the entire bundle with a diffuser. Once the spirals are heated through, he removes the pins and unravels each twist, combing down the lengths of the hair with his fingers. Next, he gathers the wavy hair into a ponytail and secures it at the nape of the neck, then sets the look with the diffuser. The final step is to snip the hair elastic and comb through the lengths again. &amp;quot;Do you follow?&amp;quot; he asks the group. I certainly do not, but I overcompensate with a premature &amp;quot;Easy!&amp;quot; Hampton looks unconvinced. I soon learn that coiling noodles of hair into tiny nests is about as easy as capturing a small fish with bare hands. My first attempt slides right out and requires a do-over. I resign myself to mousse and dryer duty, tasks of the lowest skill level, but at least the demotion gives me a chance to hang out with the other hair pros in training. If these were line cooks, Hampton would be the head chef\u2014none of the girls hit the runway without his finishing touch. As models and journalists trickle in from earlier shows, the tiny parking lot begins to buzz with a sense of urgency. From behind my station, I spot a beauty-blogger friend and drop to my knees lest she recognize me. &amp;quot;Mel!&amp;quot; Aylward shouts, but I&amp;#039;ve temporarily forgotten my new name. &amp;quot;Melanie! Over here,&amp;quot; he says, signaling a tardy model in need of a good moussing. I scurry to the new girl and set about applying product, a move\u2014albeit remedial\u2014I&amp;#039;ve come to master. Paralyzed by fear of being found out, I begin twisting, coiling, and pinning, and this time, by some miracle, the tiny bunches stay put. Even if they didn&amp;#039;t, I would have a safety net: Before my model reaches head chef Hampton, she&amp;#039;s handled by at least two more assistants, including Aylward. The finished girls with their slick, center-parted, and\u2014most importantly\u2014uniform hair disrobe and dress hurriedly before lining up at the backstage exit. The show is starting. Amid the chaos, Mel turns back into Julie, Cinderella-at-midnight style. Without saying goodbye, I slip away to my hotel to get ready for a semiblind date, arranged by a British friend, with the founder of a posh fragrance collection. I send a desperate e-mail to Aylward, who has seen my amateur work in action: &amp;quot;Hair is hopeless! Date in an hour. Help!&amp;quot; He writes back: &amp;quot;Split your hair into four big sections and braid down to the ends. Warm the braids with a dryer. Undo and smooth with serum. Easy.&amp;quot; Armed with my newfound expertise, this time it actually is. Pictured above: The author reports for styling duty at London Fashion Weekfor Toni&amp;amp;amp;Guy Hair Meet Wardrobe. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.elle.com/beauty/hair/tips/a12655/what-it-is-like-to-work-as-a-hairstylist/>