My mum never referred to Salon Naresh by its actual name, so I only ever knew it as “Shobi’s”. She would go to get her nails done at Shobi’s, or call and schedule a haircut at Shobi’s, or take me to get my fringe trimmed at Shobi’s. From the age of four, I sat in a black leather swivel chair, flipping through piles of imported fashion and beauty magazines, watching women be transformed into whomever they wanted to be — at Shobi’s.
