Orbler
Fashion
Leesa
Sisi
Jeska
Harry
Jana
Maddy 1
Tyronne
the-mothball-cardigan
Nella
yaviz
Miki
Brenton
Chic Critique
Cibbuano
LouieHair, not the musical
August 19th 2007 10:31
I arrived at work last night to see my manager with her hair down. She has straight dark blonde hair with distinct highlights (read: looks like a half skinned zucchini but in different colours), and I thought it looked very becoming. She thought it looked “messy, like yours”, then did some mime about my hair always being the same messy look. Other colleagues have called it “stylishly unconsidered” and “don’t take this the wrong way, but I really like your messy hair”. Ok, cool. So where and how does hair go from being relaxed to the follicular version of my brother’s room?
My mum and I whittled the discourse on hair down to not what you think is fashion, but how much you epitomise the look of your surrounding culture. If I looked at my manager, she lives in and around people who are in an eternal 2002. Other workmates hang out with Oprah during the day (ah, not actually), and on my recent days off, I have noticed that the hair stylist on Oprah is touting the uncoutured couture look.
This all brought back shocking but recent memories of contemporary torture, as a bridesmaid for my cousin in July. Executed by proxy, my cousin chose a very tight up-do that was completely flat to my head (but had a really awesome 1940s parting). I spent all day trying to loosen it just a tiny bit, not because it was painful, but because I felt over-done, over-exposed and ugly. Apparently it looked “absolutely gorgeous, just stunning” from the back, but the only time I ever saw that was when the hairdresser showed me my hair with that mirror. The only view I had all afternoon and evening was of my face, my whole face and nothing else but my face in its entirety. For someone that usually has their hair down and covering a decent portion of it, or is being reprimanded at work for messy hair, it was quite a shock to see the bit of cheek that connects to my ear.
I must have a thing for unkempt appearances. My (current) ultimate fantasy is to have Eva Green’s hair from The Dreamers, and any male I point out in social and unsocial situations usually has a decent amount of not shaving and not brushing/cutting going on. I am not a fan of Woolworths for their insistence that my boyfriend should shave before a shift – I like his mini-beard, why can’t you? Research tells me that I should probably hate World War One, not for pacifistic reasons, but because that’s when the penchant for removing men’s facial hair was established, first for practical reasons, and then for vogue.
And for feminine shaving, feminists are first to blame Harper’s Bazaar for displaying a woman in the first quarter of the twentieth century with no underarm hair. Then: fresh, now: expected. Two hundred years ago, like today, women were shaving their vulvas clean. Except then it was because having fleas and crabs were unbecoming, but today it’s because the pubes themselves are considered a dirty parasite. When did androgenic hair become a social outcast?
I didn’t brush my hair today, and I am of the opinion that it looks good. I am also exceedingly skewed in this view. Before I go to work on Tuesday, maybe I’ll pluck my hairline back to the middle of my head, to where my parietal lobe starts. Hot in the 1450s and apparently very tidy too.
This article uses a picture, licensed under the GNU Free Documentation License. It uses a picture taken from the Wikipedia article, 1400-1500 in fashion
My mum and I whittled the discourse on hair down to not what you think is fashion, but how much you epitomise the look of your surrounding culture. If I looked at my manager, she lives in and around people who are in an eternal 2002. Other workmates hang out with Oprah during the day (ah, not actually), and on my recent days off, I have noticed that the hair stylist on Oprah is touting the uncoutured couture look.
This all brought back shocking but recent memories of contemporary torture, as a bridesmaid for my cousin in July. Executed by proxy, my cousin chose a very tight up-do that was completely flat to my head (but had a really awesome 1940s parting). I spent all day trying to loosen it just a tiny bit, not because it was painful, but because I felt over-done, over-exposed and ugly. Apparently it looked “absolutely gorgeous, just stunning” from the back, but the only time I ever saw that was when the hairdresser showed me my hair with that mirror. The only view I had all afternoon and evening was of my face, my whole face and nothing else but my face in its entirety. For someone that usually has their hair down and covering a decent portion of it, or is being reprimanded at work for messy hair, it was quite a shock to see the bit of cheek that connects to my ear.
I must have a thing for unkempt appearances. My (current) ultimate fantasy is to have Eva Green’s hair from The Dreamers, and any male I point out in social and unsocial situations usually has a decent amount of not shaving and not brushing/cutting going on. I am not a fan of Woolworths for their insistence that my boyfriend should shave before a shift – I like his mini-beard, why can’t you? Research tells me that I should probably hate World War One, not for pacifistic reasons, but because that’s when the penchant for removing men’s facial hair was established, first for practical reasons, and then for vogue.
And for feminine shaving, feminists are first to blame Harper’s Bazaar for displaying a woman in the first quarter of the twentieth century with no underarm hair. Then: fresh, now: expected. Two hundred years ago, like today, women were shaving their vulvas clean. Except then it was because having fleas and crabs were unbecoming, but today it’s because the pubes themselves are considered a dirty parasite. When did androgenic hair become a social outcast?
I didn’t brush my hair today, and I am of the opinion that it looks good. I am also exceedingly skewed in this view. Before I go to work on Tuesday, maybe I’ll pluck my hairline back to the middle of my head, to where my parietal lobe starts. Hot in the 1450s and apparently very tidy too.
Hugo van der Goes painting of a tidy babe c.1460s
This article uses a picture, licensed under the GNU Free Documentation License. It uses a picture taken from the Wikipedia article, 1400-1500 in fashion
| 86 |
| Vote |
Add To: 
Subscribe to this blog
Comment by Chic Critique
"See" you around!
Cheers
CC
Comment by Tracy
Movies and Life
What a great topic to talk about. I'm with you, I often don't brush my hair thru the day, but then I work from home so that does make it easier. But still, I'm not a big fan of spending lots of time on my barnet, I'm too lazy.
Tracy
Comment by Matt The Irish Wizard
Comment by charles
FanFootball
ZCars
Ponderous
*haha*
Great first post, Mothball Cardigan!
Charles.
Comment by Ahmed
techy.Bytes
Video Gamer Kids
Little Green Foosballs
PolyKicks
Qwerk
Cinema Three
If I try to comb it down it ends up looking worse, like I give a damna bout my hair (which I don't really), the problem is at uni if you don't care about something you won't be judged on it but if you do and fail at it then you will be (at least thats how I look at it). In the end I go for the 'messy look'. Saves me tile and lots of headaches.
Comment by Sisi