Courtside Cuts: The Hairstylist Who Pampers Players at the U.S. Open

Julien Farel, with a regular clientele that includes Catherine Deneuve, Kate Moss, Brooke Shields, Sienna Miller, Liam Neeson, and countless other high-profilers, is among the most sought-after hairstylists today. His haircuts command a rate of US$1,250, and an appointment to see him is considered a coveted “get.”

But Farel’s role as the official stylist for the U.S. Open may be his biggest calling card, at least according to Farel himself, who’s had the gig since 2007.

“I approached the Open about having an onsite salon for players at the tournament, and it took me five years of pitching to finally get the contract,” Farel, a native of France, says during an interview at his eponymous salon at the Loews Regency New York hotel on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. (He has a second salon in Palm Beach, Fla.)

The position has Farel and seven employees creating a temporary salon at Arthur Ashe Stadium in Queens, N.Y., on the penthouse level in a secure area where players can freely walk around without being surrounded by spectators.

The roughly 250-square-foot space is a perk for the 500 or so stars who participate in the Open and offers haircuts, blow-dries, hairstyling, and makeup sessions, manicures and pedicures, Farel says. It debuts for the season two days before the tournament begins and is open from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. throughout the event. The official dates for the 2024 U.S. Open are Aug. 26 to Sept. 8.

Over the years, his salon has hosted several hundred players, according to Farel, including Roger Federer, Serena Williams, Coco Gauff, and Novak Djokovic. Retired players, including Billie Jean King, whose moniker is part of the official name of the U.S. Open venue—the USTA Billie Jean King National Tennis Center—have also stopped in, Farel says.

“The players make appointments, but if an A-Lister like [Rafael] Nadal or Djokovic walks in, we try to make it work,” Farel says. “We’re busy all day for the entire Open.”

Patrick McEnroe, a retired professional player and an ESPN tennis commentator of the U.S. Open, is a client of Farel’s at his Manhattan salon. McEnroe says that Farel is also a friend, and he visits him at his Arthur Ashe salon whenever he can.

“It’s a hot spot and where all the players hang out and socialise,” McEnroe says. “They love coming to the salon, and it’s a great amenity for them.”

On-site salons for players at major tennis tournaments aren’t uncommon, but Farel was the first to introduce the concept to the U.S. Open, he says. (A representative for the U.S. Open is unable to confirm if this is the case.)

Farel’s experience as a tournament stylist was the impetus for bringing his salon to the Open.

“I worked at Roland-Garros in Paris at the French Open for a decade under my mentor Jacques Dessange, who had an on-site salon there,” Farel says. “I did haircuts and styling for all the big players at the time, including Pete Sampras, Andre Agassi, John McEnroe, and Monica Seles.”

Eric Butorac, the director of player relations for the U.S. Open, says that the tournament’s executives offer the salon as a benefit to players because they recognise that they’re under the public eye and need to look their best. “We understand they’re under scrutiny, and we understand the challenge of life on the road, where they’re living out of a suitcase,” Butorac says. “Julien’s salon is well-used and an amenity that isn’t related to a player’s tennis performance the way our fitness centre or nap rooms are.”

Croatian player Donna Vekic, who is fresh off winning a silver medal at the Olympics, takes full advantage of the perk. The star says that she frequents the salon throughout the tournament for blow dries, manicures, and pedicures and also visits the Manhattan location for colour jobs.

“It’s very convenient to have it at the stadium,” Vekic says. “I want to look and feel good when I’m playing.”

And if they don’t hit up the salon during the tournament, some players will stop by when the matches are finished, Farel says. “Many of the players are so busy during the Open that they only get time to pamper themselves when the tournament is over.”

Administrative cowardice. Rampant cheating. The soaking and scamming of undergrads and grad students. Performative wokeism. Intensifying competition for international tuition dollars from an expansive China.

These are either the latest dire headlines about American higher ed or the myriad subplots of “Lords of Serendipity,” an ambitious new novel by Randy Boyagoda. Unlike most campus fiction, its scope extends well beyond the cloister of the liberal arts classroom to whammy the entire university system, from its financial model to its function within a globalized economy. Along the way, it skewers its lightning-rod targets with a precision too sharp to be considered entirely fictional.

That its author is not only well-versed in satire, having written four other novels in the genre, but is also a professor of English at the University of Toronto and an experienced college administrator, further blurs the lines between comic fiction and brutal fact. It’s the kind of no-holds-barred book only a consummate insider would know to write—but only one who is also conveniently outside the American university system could get away with writing.

“This is someone who’s got the inside dope on what can go on at universities, especially with international students, and what kind of con games are going on,” said Margaret Atwood, a friend and fellow Torontonian.

The novel, like Boyagoda himself, is often very funny—even as the dilemmas its characters face read as tragedy. Its cast includes the bickering members of a Sri Lankan hotel cleaner’s family, insecure American freshmen, dead-end third-tier college professors and their highflying Ivy League counterparts and dispirited university functionaries. An old-fashioned Dickensian tale, it sweeps across continents and campuses, from a classic liberal-arts college to a stand-in for Harvard University to an urban technical school to the dilapidated buildings of a state-run university in Sri Lanka.

“I’m a joyful person,” Boyagoda said in an interview, though he prefers to see his outlook on academia as “hopeful” rather than optimistic. He smiles and laughs frequently. He bikes everywhere. He derives energy from his students and from his four daughters, ages 14 to 20. They help him and his American wife, Anna, also an educator, care for Boyagoda’s father, an immigrant from Sri Lanka who has dementia and lives with the family.

Randy Boyagoda speaks at a panel discussion. — Randy Boyagoda taking part in a panel discussion at the University of Toronto in 2024. Polina Teif/University of Toronto

The germ of the novel came to Boyagoda during the pandemic, when he was serving as a vice-dean. An urban legend was circulating about a statistics grad student selling passing grades to international students. The cheating scheme itself may well have been apocryphal, but it felt tantalizingly plausible.

“As a novelist, it stayed with me,” Boyagoda said. “Who would sell grades for a stats course? Why would someone buy grades? What’s motivating them? Why wouldn’t the university be doing something about it?” What he didn’t want to do, he explained, was write “another novel about a creative writing professor and his drama with students.”

In addition to writing novels—the first of which was a finalist for Canada’s prestigious Giller Prize; he’s written eight books in total—Boyagoda teaches literature full-time. For his students next semester, kids raised in a purportedly “post-literature era,” he’s assigning three 700-page novels, he noted mischievously, books by George Eliot, Ralph Ellison and Kiran Desai.

On RateMyProfessors, students remark on Boyagoda’s heavy assignments, tough grading and distaste for cellphones, but also hail his “comedy.” When alerted to these reviews, Boyagoda laughed. “Guilty as charged,” he said.

“Randy’s one of those people in academia who is very well educated but doesn’t have an ounce of superiority about him,” said John Irving, who frequently guest lectures in Boyagoda’s classroom. “It’s amazing to see how willing students are to talk in his classrooms, how little afraid they feel of being mocked or put down—he gets complete candor out of them.”

Negotiating competing interests seems to come naturally to him. Like many college campuses, after the Oct. 7 Hamas attack on Israel, the University of Toronto was embroiled in protests, encampments and discord; part of the school’s response was to convene a working group on civil discourse. Boyagoda was put in charge, serving for two years. It’s the kind of thankless task many professors would flee from, but Boyagoda relished the prospect and thinks the group, which is ongoing, made progress.

He has since pivoted to another formidable academic concern: the waning prestige of the humanities. In July, Boyagoda became the director of the Jackman Humanities Institute and special advisor on the humanities to the dean of arts and science. This fall, he is starting a series of gatherings he calls the Dead Book Club. (Dead writers feature heavily among his favorites: St. Augustine, Dante, William Faulkner, Evelyn Waugh, Saul Bellow.)

“The goal is to encourage students to read for its own sake and have conversation for its own sake,” Boyagoda said. “The importance of the humanities will be revealed to those who participate.”

Illustration of the book cover for "Lords of Serendipity" by Randy Boyagoda, depicting a woman wearing a hat with various buildings on top, against a blue background with a white airplane.

“Lords of Serendipity,” which publishes next week, reflects Boyagoda’s commitment to the pursuit of knowledge: “I’m supposed to say I learn more from my students than they do from me, but no,” Boyagoda said. “I enjoy sharing my excitement and joy about literature and ideas. There are these moments when you are teaching and you can see someone’s face change because they didn’t know something and then they did. That moment when you’re actually watch someone enlarge themselves is deeply satisfying.”

In literary circles, Boyagoda is often referred to as a Catholic novelist, a description he embraces. “A novelist willing to give shape and voice to contemporary religious experience is needed,” Boyagoda said. “I understand myself as a Catholic novelist, provided that I’m not only a Catholic novelist, I’m also a South Asian novelist and I’m a Canadian novelist. I don’t want to be captive to one label.”

His characters, he said, are subjected to what he calls “Graham Greene character situations.”

“They are trying to do good in a fallen world and realize the most they can do is less harm than someone else would do in that same role,” he explained. “They have to accept they are complicit in something that provides some good thing to others. It’s a very Graham Greene way of thinking about sacrifice.”

The campus green they inhabit is a febrile zone in which lofty ideals and cynicism regularly collide. It’s a place where a traditional holiday college celebration is now an occasion for political protest. Kids freely police one another inside and out of the classroom with social media their constant, ready weapon of choice. International students, knowing their family’s financial futures hinge on their degrees, operate in terror of failure and deportation.

Early readers of the book include Gary Shteyngart and Junot Diaz, both of whom have taught at universities and written comic novels. They each contacted Boyagoda midway through to say, in essence, “You nailed it.”

As biting as “Lords of Serendipity” can be, Boyagoda’s faith in higher education remains undaunted.

“It’s absurd that we live in societies that make the decision to take people between the ages of 18 and 22, when they are most physically capable of contributing to our nations and communities, and tell them, ‘Go away for four years, and read and learn and have conversations,’” he said. “I want students to be aware of what an incredible privilege that is.”

Corrections & Amplifications
Randy Boyagoda is a special advisor on the humanities to the dean of arts and science at the University of Toronto. An earlier version of this article incorrectly said he is a special adviser to the dean of humanities. (Corrected on Sept. 2)

Courtside Cuts: The Hairstylist Who Pampers Players at the U.S. Open

Randy Boyagoda’s new novel, “Lords of Serendipity,” delivers a biting satire of cheating, politics and dysfunction across modern universities.