Spanish businesses need to take a long, hard look at what it really means to offer a luxury or premium service.

Because let me tell you, it’s not just about silk robes, fake smiles, and slapping a premium price tag on a basic service.

I walked into a local hair salon today—nothing fancy, just a neighborhood spot that charges like they’re doing hair for the Oscars. All I wanted was a root touch-up. Simple. I’ve had gray hair since I was 25 (thanks, genetics), and while I’m not ashamed of it, I’m also not ready to go full silver fox just yet. So yeah, I’ve had this service done everywhere—multiple countries, different price points. Spain? Spain consistently misses the mark.

Here’s how it went:

They greet me warmly, take my jacket, give me a silky robe, and I think, okay, maybe this will be nice.

Then—bam—first upsell. “Oh, your hair looks dry, you need a deep conditioning treatment.”
Ma’am… my hair is literally glowing today. But okay, I smile and say no thanks (small win, because normally I fold under that kind of pressure).

Then they come back again trying to upsell me on a color-enhancing gloss. I decline. Again. Still polite. Still clear.

We move on. They wash my hair—props where props are due, the scalp massage was divine—but then they ask if I want a blowout. Now, in literally every other country I’ve lived in, blow-drying your hair is included. If you want something fancy—waves, straightening, curls—you pay extra. That’s fair. In Spain? If you don’t pay, they’ll let you walk out looking like a soggy golden retriever.

So I say, just air-dry it. They slap on a product anyway (of course they try to sell me that too), wave a dryer around for five minutes, and call it “styling.” Spoiler alert: that “styling” ends up on my bill.

The cherry on top? After telling me how dry and tragic my hair was, suddenly it’s “so shiny! so gorgeous! wow!” the moment I go to pay. I can smell the BS from across the room.

Then one of them asks, “Is this your first time here?”
I say, “Actually no, I came last year.”
Their reaction? Nothing but a fake little “Oh wow!” and an awkward laugh. Not even a fake effort to find out why it took me a year to come back. Just, “Oh well, she’s not a regular, who cares.”

Let me tell you what they could’ve done instead:

• Offered that 5-minute “styling” on the house. Something like, “No worries, the finish is on us—hope to see you again soon!” Boom. Instant customer loyalty.

• Asked in the beginning if I’d been there before, seen I hadn’t returned in a year, and subtly (genuinely) tried to understand why. Not to grill me—just to listen and improve.

• Backed the hell off when I politely declined the upsell. Respect the no. Read the room. If I live nearby, I’m more likely to come back if you don’t make me feel like a walking wallet.

• Actually meant their compliments. Humans have a spidey sense for fake energy, and it’s turned all the way up in situations like this.

Luxury isn’t about the price—it’s about the feeling. It’s about making people feel seen, cared for, and respected.

I’ve switched nail salons before, not because of price, but because one of them had a drinks menu, peaceful music, and didn’t treat me like their personal therapist. Later I found out they kept a little file for every client with a history of our nail colors. You’d come in and say, “Hey, I want that pink from a few months ago,” and they’d know exactly which one. That’s what premium feels like. Details. Memory. Consideration.

So here’s the big lesson for any business charging premium prices:

If you want to upsell, earn it. Make me feel taken care of. Make me feel like your service actually changed my day for the better. Don’t just throw fluff and fake flattery at me and expect me to come running back.

Sometimes, all it takes is five minutes of kindness or a free finishing touch to turn a one-time customer into a forever fan.

Instead? You lost a client over a five-minute upsell and a bad attitude.