Israeli hairstylist who inspired an Adam Sandler movie continues working on his American dream

By Arthur Lightbourn

Nezi Arbib Photo/Jon Clark

Yes, local resident Nezi Arbib served in a special unit of the Israel Defense Forces although he can’t reveal exactly in what capacity during his three years of service.
And, yes, ever since he experienced the world outside Israel, his dream was to become a successful hairstylist in America.
And, perhaps most importantly, as he enthusiastically acknowledges, he adores women.
But, no, he insists, he isn’t a mixture of James Bond, a modern-day Casanova on steroids, and Israel’s top counter-terrorism Mossad agent as he was portrayed in the recent Adam Sandler comedy flick “You Don’t Mess with the Zohan.”
In the movie, after tiring of his mythic reputation for heroism in Israel, the fictional Zohan fakes his death and flies to the Big Apple hidden in a dog crate to begin a new life under an assumed identity as a hairdresser on a street with Israelis on one side and Palestinians on the other who, despite their differences, eventually, with the help of Zohan, join forces to defeat a greedy New York developer.
Fact is, that film, Arbib says, caused him considerable personal embarrassment.
“I got excited that they wrote a movie about me,” he admitted in his Israeli accent, “but then when I went with a bunch of my friends and my kids to see it, and I saw all the sex scenes, I covered my kids’ eyes…. and the next thing I did, I called the writer and I said, ‘Are you trying to ruin my life?
“He said, ‘Nez, relax. This is Hollywood. Everybody knows you have to put some sex in a little bit to fill it out.”
The writer likened the Zohan film to the 1975 film comedy, “Shampoo,” that starred Warren Beatty as an ambitious Beverly Hills hairdresser with a runaway libido.
One thing’s for sure, Arbib said, if any hairdresser provided bonus back-room sexual favors to women as the character Zohan Dvir did in the movie, “he’d be out of business” in no time.
“No, no,” Arbib said, “you can’t do that.”
Initially, when he was approached by a writer in his Beverly Hills salon, Arbib said, “I thought it was going to go to the serious conservative side,” inspired by his life and his two hairdresser brothers who also served in the Israel Defense Forces. “But the writer pulled me in another direction. Funny, comedy, sex and craziness. It’s all in their hands.”
The first draft of the script was co-written in 2000 by Judd Apatow, Robert Smigel and Adam Sandler, but was put on hold after 9/11 because of the sensitive Israeli/Palestinian subject matter. The film opened in June 2008 to mixed reviews but went on to earn more than $100 million domestically.
We interviewed Arbib on the patio of his 2,000 sq. ft., 10-chair salon, Shampoo Too, that opened last May in the North Cedros Avenue designer district of Solana Beach. Arbib also owns another highly successful hair salon, Shampoo, that he and his wife opened in Beverly Hills 20 years ago and that is now operated by Arbib’s two younger brothers.
Arbib is 5-foot-9, 130 pounds, with brown expressive eyes and, ironically, even though he loves hair, he himself is bald.
Several years ago, when he noticed he was losing his hair, he became self-conscious about it, he said. Then he noticed that many surfers shaved their heads and looked cool.
“So I buzzed it all off. It’s trendy,” he laughed.
Arbib was born in Libya. “I was a Jewish boy born in an Arab country,” he said. His Italian-heritage father was an entrepreneur who owned casinos, restaurants and dirt bike racing tracks. When after the 1967 Arab-Israeli (Six Day) War, the Libyan government began confiscating Jewish assets “and slaughtering Jews,” his mother, a Libyan Jew, fled first to Italy with her children, Arbib included, and four years later got permission to immigrate to Israel. His father later rejoined the family in Israel.
Arbib’s two youngest brothers, Shaoul and Shalom, named after two of Arbib’s uncles who were slaughtered during the pogrom in Libya, were born in Israel, bringing the family total to 10 children.
The family lived in a small town near Tel Aviv.
Money was scarce.
“To raise 10 kids in a house, you need money,” Arbib said. “My brothers worked and I worked part-time, shampooing hair in a salon, and brought home money to our mom.”
He was 13 at the time. Initially, he didn’t like shampooing that much, he said, because to become a hairstylist he thought you had to be gay and he wasn’t.
“But I had to make that money and the women made me feel comfortable. I felt like a bird in a cage because they used to tip me and everyday I’d come home with gifts and money and they taught me so much because you can learn so much from women.”
He also learned some important lessons from the two women who owned the salon. One didn’t like to work that hard, he said. “She’d close the store and we’d go to the beach and have fun.” The other was a taskmaster who “used to slave us” and thought nothing of working until 4 in the morning.
“But, later in life,” he realized, “the combination of the two made me what I am today,” he said. “I learned to see the world in both ways.” Work hard but have fun as well.
“You know how they say every powerful man has a powerful woman behind him? I feel like I have hundreds of thousands of powerful women behind me.
“They gave me a chance to express my creativity and imagination.”
He eventually got so adept at hairstyling that at age 18 he was sent by his salon to Europe to represent Israel in a series of hairstyling competitions and exhibitions in Europe.
“I did that for two years,” he said.
By then, he realized he had a “gift” and Israel and even Europe seemed “too small” so he began focusing on America.
But first, he had to do his military service.
In the Zohan movie, he said, “You can see how they tried to make me a hero there. In Israel, once you do something for the army and you are in the secret area, they look at you as a hero. So I had a lot of pressure from that side to be a myth, to fight and be strong and save the country. On the other side, I saw the women world and that’s the world I needed because I didn’t like the other world, the army world.”
The day after completing his military service, he flew to New York to pursue his American dream.
“The only things I brought with me were my scissors, my comb and my manners. And with my broken English, I explained that I’m a hairstylist from Israel and I want to show you what I’m capable of doing. And people here are so beautiful. They’re very trusting. They let you do and they support you. If they believe in you, they recommend you. They build you up and I think this is the American dream. And it’s do-able.”
After two years in New York working for others, Arbib moved to Los Angeles and with his wife opened a salon in Beverly Hills that eventually attracted, among its clients, an impressive list of movie stars, producers and writers.
At one point, the salon employed 49 hairstylists.
Seven years ago, Arbib moved the San Diego with the intention of retiring and staying at home to help raise his five children.
“You know why I didn’t,” he recently explained to a reporter, “I’m too young to stay home and drive my wife crazy.”
He had met his future wife, Michal, while both were attending high school in Israel. “She was my first childhood love,” he said. They have been married 19 years and have five children.
His world, he said, is a world of fashion where creativity, imagination and inspiration form an oasis for people who need a respite from the work-a-day world of daily responsibilities, business and stress.
“Once people pass through our door and enter our salon, they walk into a different world,” he says.
It’s a Cedros funky world.
The entrance to the open-shuttered salon is past a patio for sipping tea and soft drinks. The music is high energy. The ceilings are high. The walls are decorated with larger than life mirrors and over-sized character murals.
And, of course, there’s Arbib and his staff of professionals.
But definitely Arbib, working deftly, swiftly and totally focused on what he is doing.
“I’m a big person with people. I can talk. My personality is very open.”
And, he believes, “All women are beautiful, and it’s my job to enhance that beauty.”
Arbib became an American citizen 18 months ago.
“My life is like a Duracell,” he said. “I keep rolling and rolling.”