Hi hi HI! I'm Rico Benavides. I'm 34 (in hair years, 29, and holding), I live in West Hollywood, and I do hair for a living, which means I spend all day making other people gorgeous and then go home and do it to myself. Somebody has to.

Why "Hello, Sailor"? Because that's what my Tía Carmen says every single time I walk into a room, ever since I was a baby, and NOBODY in the family knows where she got it. She is 71. I have been on exactly one boat in my life, the ferry to Catalina, and I was seasick the whole way in a very chic pair of white pants. So, you know. Sailor.

#1 CHER. She has been famous since before I was born and she looks better than me. When "Believe" comes on the radio at the salon, all the blow dryers go OFF. That is a rule. It is posted by the register.

#2 MADONNA. Every look, every era, I was there. I did my cousin Yesenia's hair like the "Vogue" video for her quinceañera and my aunt still hasn't forgiven me. Yesenia has. Yesenia looked like a MOVIE STAR.

#3 CELIA CRUZ. The Queen of Salsa!!! ¡AZÚCAR! My mother played her records every Saturday morning while she cleaned the house, and I learned to dance standing on top of Mami's feet in the kitchen. And the WIGS. Don't even get me started on the wigs. As a professional, I am in awe.

Honorable mentions: Gloria Estefan, Bette Midler, Selena (rest in peace, mi reina), and my Tía Carmen, see above.

Lola is my chihuahua. She is four pounds of pure attitude and she runs this house. She has her own sweater drawer. She has more sweaters than I do, and honey, I have a LOT of sweaters. On Tuesdays she comes to work with me and sits on the chair by the front desk like she owns the place, which, spiritually, she does. I have a picture of her in a little sailor hat but the film is STILL at the drugstore. When I get it back you will all DIE.

My mother lives in El Paso and she "knows and loves me anyway." Those are her exact words and she says "anyway" like it's a compliment. (It is.) When I told her, back in 1987, she was quiet for one whole minute and then she said, "Mijo, I knew when you were six and you gave all your sister's Barbies a perm."

She calls every Sunday to ask if I'm eating and if I've met "a nice young man with a job." Mami, I'm working on it. I'm very busy. I have a dog.

You can find me at Salon Divina on Santa Monica Boulevard, chair number three, by the window. It's the one with the good light and the squeaky pump. Walk-ins welcome. Gossip mandatory.

Things I will do: cut, color, highlights, updos, brides, bridesmaids, mothers of the bride who want to look younger than the bride (shh).
Things I will NOT do: "the Rachel." Ladies, it is 1999. Let her go.

Pride is my Christmas. Every June I do hair from six in the morning for everybody in my building who is marching, riding or just going to stand on the curb and look fabulous, and then I go out there in something with sequins and wave until my arm falls off. This year Mami flew in from El Paso and marched with the parents' group in a T-shirt that said "I ♥ MY SON," and I cried so hard I had to redo my face TWICE.