Extraordinary wisdom of Edinburgh hairdresser Charlie Miller should always be remembered
Following Edinburgh hairdresser Charlie Miller’s death at 80, Professor Joe Goldblatt explains why his friend was such a special person
Many years ago, the late philanthropist Sir Tom Farmer rang my Queen Margaret University office with an idea. “I have a great speaker for your class!” he told me enthusiastically. When I asked who was this orator, Tom said: “He’s my barber!"
He then explained that his long-time friend, the world-famous Scottish hairdresser Charlie Miller, had been cutting his hair for many years and, during these visits, would share with him his philosophy of life. Tom said: “Your students need to hear this.”
I invited Charlie to join me for a coffee and soon learned we both practiced mindfulness and found great benefit in meditation. I also discovered what a deep thinker he was and how his ideas about integrity, aesthetics, and empathy in business would be of great value to my students.
A few weeks later, I sat in the back of the lecture theatre and was amazed by how nearly 100 mostly female students were mesmerised by the wisdom of this sixtysomething hairdresser. They seemed to lean forward and prick up their ears to make certain they didn’t miss a word.
Applauded loudly and long
His wisdom was delivered with his usual natural humility and he simply and straightforwardly told the students that any success he had enjoyed stemmed from listening deeply to his customers, treating them with integrity, and seeking an aesthetic outcome in all of life. When he finished, they applauded loudly and long.
I was impressed with how this man, who began his career with one barber’s chair, grew his hairdressing enterprise into five salons in Edinburgh and went on occasional worldwide tours to demonstrate his unique talent.
A couple of years later, he called to say he would be unable to give any more speeches and, when I asked why, he said: "The doctor has diagnosed me as having the early stages of dementia."
I was speechless. I had never had a close friend share this kind of news. When I told Charlie I was very sorry and asked if there was anything I could do, he said in his typically humble and straightforward manner: "It does not bother me."
Awarded an OBE
Charlie was a master of getting on with it. His business success was not always easy and he spent over 100,000 hours on his feet making others feel and look better.
He was also a philanthropist whose generosity for teenagers with cancer led him, following his retiral, to support the Teenage Cancer Trust and deliver HAIR 4U, providing real-hair wigs for teenage cancer patients. In 2012, he received his OBE from the Queen.
His wife of 60 years, two successful sons who now lead his business, four loving grandchildren, hundreds of employees and tens of thousands of clients also benefited from his straightforward wisdom and good humour. Charlie was a smile-maker in private and public. After a cock of his head and a sly wink, I was often convulsed by fits of laughter. No comedian could make me laugh like Charlie Miller.
‘Girls! It’s Charlie Miller!’
Our friendship actually grew as his dementia increased and we agreed to follow the Dylan Thomas mantra, “Do not go gently into that good night”. We visited museums, attended concerts, took our wives to dinner, and got on with life until he and his family finally decided more specialised care was needed and he was welcomed at Queens Manor Care Home in Barnton.
He soon became one of the most popular residents. All he had to do was look the others in the eye, smile and say "I love your hairstyle. You look great!" and they would grin from ear to ear, then melt.
One day I invited him to the Festival Theatre to see a musical about the Osmond family. Charlie loved rock ‘n’ roll and was thoroughly entertained. When we left, a woman shouted: "Are you Charlie Miller?" Charlie looked puzzled, giggled and said shrugging his shoulders: "I used to be." The woman screamed even louder shouting "Girls! It's Charlie Miller!"
Soon we were surrounded by a bevy of 60-year-olds and Charlie was telling each one how beautiful they were. I realised I was in the presence of a seventysomething rock star and I’d better plot a quick exit.
I saw a taxi pull up, took Charlie by the arm, and ushered this icon of Scottish hairdressing to the vehicle. We laughed at our last-minute escape all the way back to his care home.
Humility and kindness
Those students who were so intrigued and inspired by my longtime friend knew even in their tender youth that wisdom is something you rarely encounter even at university. However, that morning, he shared with them his secrets for making the world a more beautiful place through authenticity, aesthetics, and integrity.
He knew then and I know now that life is beautiful when you practice integrity, invoke empathy, and seek to advance the aesthetic in every human encounter. He did this with humility, kindness, thoughtfulness, and generosity that will make me smile, and perhaps a better smile-maker myself, all the remaining days of my life.
Charlie often quoted the Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh, who told his followers that if they were truly grateful for a kindness from another person they must say “thank you” three times to emphasise their gratitude. Many times, even during the advanced stages of his illness, Charlie would turn to a care worker or a fellow resident and slowly and solemnly say "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
As I reflect upon the immense gratitude I have for my friend who indeed made the world more beautiful every day of his long life, I can solemnly say to him now as I did to him many times during his precious time on Earth: "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." I also know there are thousands of people all over the world joining me in this chorus of gratitude.
Joe Goldblatt is emeritus professor of planned events at Queen Margaret University
Comments
Want to join the conversation? Please or to comment on this article.