Sabah’s former stylist lives along the coast of Tripoli, in the quiet port-side part of town where the winding alleyways with hanging rusty shutters and netted baskets smell of fish long after the morning catch.
I entered the shop to take a look after spotting all the photos on the glass outside. You wouldn’t think much of the shop from first glance. I didn’t believe him at first but if a shrine of their photos together is any proof of his devotion to the pop icon, then I don’t know what is (and his shop does little more than just do that). It’s a museum of that signature flowing bleach blonde hair with that painted on make-up that will remain as frozen in time as the woman herself.
Although I’m not much of a fan of Sabah, but like entering any well-preserved museum, you can’t help but walk out with a little sense of appreciation for the life she’s lived (and the hairstyle she’s managed to keep all this time). Something about seeing it unveiled through the eyes of her stylist leaves you wondering what that journey’s been like and why they parted ways. Does Sabah miss Nicholas as much as he misses her?