DNC Profile
Shara Zaval
Geneses, a sleek salon and spa in Newton, is spelled on the building’s façade in jagged black letters celebrating the modern, the chic, and the sassy—the “new beginnings” that is the literal translation of its name. On Friday, July 23, however, the salon’s serene interior was erupting with chaos. The staff of Geneses was trying to handle the flood of phone calls invading the front desk, while squeezing in extra clients, and preventing Lukie, the owner’s Maltese, from scurrying out the front door. Even Luke Bellamy, a hair stylist at Geneses, sat with the receptionist when he was not cutting hair, helping her answer the barrage of calls and customers.
Geneses was about to experience a new beginning of its own. Starting July 26, some of the salon talent would be celebrating the four-day Democratic National Convention from the backstage dressing room in the FleetCenter, where the practiced hands of Luke Bellamy and others held the fate of Hillary Clinton’s eyeliner and John Kerry’s hair.
Mr. Bellamy, 27, managed to remain calm in the preparatory frenzy around him. As one of the three hairdressers representing Geneses at the DNC, he said, “You can’t get too mentally prepared for this, or anything, because then you lose your vibe and rhythm.”
The Norma A. Lee Company, a public relations firm working with the DNC, had selected Geneses to style the speakers’ hair and apply their makeup. They would be joining other local hair stylists in the dressing rooms of the political stars in the FleetCenter.
On Tuesday, July 27, Mr. Bellamy’s first day at the DNC, he stayed relaxed and quiet as he drove into the city despite the streaming conversation taking place between his boss and manager in the back seat. He remained unaffected as he passed the security guards and the mob of people hoping to enter the FleetCenter. But Mr. Bellamy grew excited upon reaching the two escalators leading to the upper floors. “Everyone was getting denied at the first escalator, so I started going up the other one. I could tell that the first escalator was just for really important people. Then the attendant said, ‘No, you’re over here,’” and motioned him toward the escalator for the very select.
Mr. Bellamy had never attended a major hairdressing event or enjoyed such status despite a long history of styling hair. “I’ve been in a salon since I was three feet tall,” said Mr. Bellamy, laughing. His mother worked as a colorist at Geneses while he was growing up. Her name, Domenica, is tattooed on his right forearm in honor of her memory, after her death almost two years ago.
Mr. Bellamy ventured into the industry on his own at the age of fourteen, when he gave his football teammates Mohawks and shaved their jersey numbers into their hair. After graduating from high school, he went to Ohio Wesleyan College but left in dissatisfaction after his freshman year and returned home to work in construction. His mother suggested trying hairdressing instead, and, a year and a half later, he enrolled at the Bojack Academy of Beauty Culture in West Roxbury. “I got to work with all different clients, from all different walks of life. I loved it,” he said.
With his nine tattoos and tall muscular frame, Mr. Bellamy does not necessarily look like the hairdresser one would expect at a suburban salon. However, he says, “I rarely have problems with my clients…I definitely have a relationship with them.”
Upon arriving at the convention’s backstage dressing room, Mr. Bellamy found himself within the circle of people that he so enjoys. The room operated like an assembly line. The person about to take the stage would go to the first available makeup artist. As soon as the last swipe of blush was brushed, the person would be passed to the closest hairdresser. Five minutes later, that person was out the door and in the national spotlight.
Although each speaker was randomly assigned to a stylist, Mr. Bellamy explained that some of the hairdressers aggressively sought out prime politicians. One female hairdresser frequently stood in front of Mr. Bellamy in an attempt to style as many people as possible, but he did not put up a fight. “She had a smile from ear to ear, and I could tell it was an extremely high point in her life. If I had to sit a couple of heads while she did more than her fair share, it was definitely cool because it just made her so happy.”
However, Mr. Bellamy did not have too much time to relax. He tousled the tresses of everyone from House Democratic Leader Nancy Pelosi, who was “just nice, and trying to be a regular person,” to Ohio Representative and once-hopeful Democratic presidential candidate Dennis Kucinich. Mr. Kucinich, however, fell below Mr. Bellamy’s high expectations: “He was a little too short with people and too full of himself.”
A freelance drummer as well as a hairstylist, Mr. Bellamy did not head home after a busy first day in the dressing room, instead, he went to the Vinalia Restaurant, where he played the drums at the party honoring Illinois Senate Candidate Barack Obama after his keynote address. Mr. Bellamy missed the mingling and personal interactions he had experienced earlier that day, even though the atmosphere of the party was much more relaxed. “I might as well have been a busboy. There wasn’t the same esteem as when I was styling hair.”
Mr. Bellamy would experience his own high points of the convention in the following two days, as Vanessa Kerry, daughter of presidential candidate John Kerry, arrived for her styling. On Wednesday, Ms. Kerry needed Mr. Bellamy’s help because the previous hairdresser had not achieved the look she was hoping for. On Thursday, she came in again, this time distraught, because her up-do seemed beyond repair with strands sticking out at unnatural angles and twisted unattractively. Mr. Bellamy suggested that his boss try to fix the style because “she’s the ultimate master of back-stage-fixing-up-quick-last-minute-stuff.” However, after Ms. Kerry left the dressing room, her personal assistant rushed back and said, according to Mr. Bellamy, “Luke, she wants you. You have to go now!” Mr. Bellamy hurried to the rescue, tousling and spraying rapidly in Ms. Kerry’s private room. “When she was done [with her speech], she came over to me, nearly crying, gave me a hug, and said, ‘You saved me!’”
His other high point was listening to Reverend Al Sharpton’s speech, which “just moved me in a way I can’t explain,” said Mr. Bellamy. Mr. Sharpton was also quite conversational, according to Mr. Bellamy, unlike Reverend Jesse Jackson, whose rage was sensed by everyone in the dressing room: “It was like someone stole his lunch money.”
Unfortunately, there were moments when the different hair stylists were less than friendly toward each other. At one point, with tempers being tried and speakers shuffled between makeup and hair, singer Carole King made her way to Mr. Bellamy’s station. Not having a spray bottle, he began to cup water in his hands and scrunch it throughout her locks. Another hair stylist, who did have the coveted tool, cut in front of Mr. Bellamy and began styling Ms. King’s hair. Mr. Bellamy admits that her final hair style was the one thing that made his low point slightly brighter: “Her hair was so bad. I felt bad for Carole King, but if that woman hadn’t stomped all over me I would have done a great job.” Mr. Bellamy later approached the hairdresser. “I told her that was the most unprofessional thing I’ve ever seen. We didn’t have much to say after that.”
As the last night of the convention drew to a close, the owner and manager of Geneses prepared to watch the finale—thousands of falling balloons—on their television, which was placed amid a pile of blowdryers and hairspray, rather than from the FleetCenter floor merely yards away. “They thought it would just be too crowded, impossible to get in,” said Mr. Bellamy. “I’m a big guy, so I held their hands and took them out to see the balloons. It’s that kind of relationship.”
Almost as quickly as they were unloaded, the supplies were packed up and shoved out the door, just like the hundreds of beautified politicians, singers, and actors that the stylists had helped. On the following Friday, the change was evident in the salon. The chaos was gone. The staff was relishing a gift it had not enjoyed in the last two weeks: time. Time to breathe, time to talk, time to return phone calls, and time to stick two signs supporting Kerry and Edwards right in the middle of the hydrangeas by the doorway for all the passersby to see.
And there was even time to accept new clients, because, according to receptionist Sandra Altieri, “There’s been more support, more people calling. Democrats, of course.”
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