I love a good craftsman. Someone who takes pride in their creative work no matter how apparently simple or humble the task.
One of the biggest dangers of going for a haircut, especially for a woman with long flowing locks, is that the 'creative director' (or whatever hairdressers like to call themselves these days) finds it tiresome to just neatly trim the ends. He needs to call forth his 'artistry' and expend much effort in pushing for something far more dramatic and
interesting. Sadly too often, to justify the default cost of the grooming ritual and perhaps also enjoying the implicit flattery, the client goes along with this. Subsequently catastrophic results are then overlooked where both parties are complicit in the 'success' of the resulting new look, and further reinforced with friends' well-intentioned but insincerely positive feedback.
In truth, a really good craftsman is hard to find in any field, because so often the rightful intent of their task is subverted by a low threshold of boredom or a fundamental betrayal of their role.
The world of advertising and design is particularly full of these phoney artists. On televsion, on billboards, on buses and trains, in magazines and newspapers, websites and beyond. David Ogilvy wrote
a brilliant book that puts this in stark focus - there's something rather excruciating about seeing much modern-day advertising self-indulgence after reading his classic work. Just like the hairdresser and his colluding customer, trendy agency reps and credulous businessmen buy into the (notional) triumph of flashy design over effective content. Despite Ogilvy being a Scotsman, it's generally fair to say that the US (and Asia too) is far less guilty of this wholesale self-deception than we in Europe tend to be.
The way I see it, really worthy artistic expression is borne from great craftmanship and purpose, design in itself has no value and no meaning. This was something I noticed, and continue to notice, with experimental music. It's a real challenge to play a synth and just stick to playing 3 distinct sounds without variation - the temptation to fiddle around, playing rhythms and melodies, is almost irresistible. A great craftsman has the strength to resist.