Unless you can pull off bald or are career military, coif management is a particularly heinous slice of fashion. We struggle to overcome genetic and environmental inequities, some more than others, as we foolishly attempt a particular look we saw on TV (“I want the Rachel Green!”) Then just when you think you’re starting to figure your hairstyle out, fashion changes, your environment changes, your hair turns gray, or it all simply falls out. Some just admit defeat – Donald Trump for example (see more on “Shocking Celebrity Gossip” tab). And in real life, you frequently see folks that have failed to evolve, as evidenced by ancient bouffant hairdo, or a decades old Elvis look. The bottom line is who gives a crap if you’re happy with you, and have the self-esteem to handle awkward stares? Regardless, I still claim mocking rights. This fashion segment is about some favorite hair faux pas.
I promised Mike that I would refer to him as Pedro. Thanks for being a sport, Pedro! We'll give him a pass for this "fashion statement" that was in conjunction with a cancer awareness event (and he wanted to impress the ladies). Bravo Pedro. Bravo.
THE DYE JOB
To the delight of investors (not me) and the occasional cynic (me), international hair dye sales run in the billions of dollars. Among the purposes for hair dye is as perceived beauty aid or fashion statement (a.k.a. - you attend events called ‘Raves’ and/or use the term ‘Emo’ liberally). But aside from highlights and purple streaks, the real emphasis is age denier. It is well documented that men (who still have hair) get to use the word “distinguished.” Women, however, have it especially tough with the going gray thing, and the best remedies don’t tend to come cheaply or easily. Some individuals are more than capable of blending colors and creatively disguising gray, and then there are those this skill has tragically eluded. This is the point where the hair dye practice gets out of hand. To be brutally honest, the older I get the more terrifying I find people over 50 with no gray hair. My personal litmus test for a bad dye job is when at first glance I feel obligated to exclaim, “What the hell?” Some may find that reaction offensive, but it’s like the compulsion to slow down to gawk at a wreck.
One profound example, may he rest in peace, Billy Mays looked like someone took a Sharpie to his dome. And just recently I spotted a woman with an artificial red color that might best be described as - in the shade of disturbing. At some point, it’s time to go with what God gave you. Take it as your sign when small children stop to point at your hair color that somehow has come to closely match a bubblegum colored Crayola. Exception - you’re en route to Burning Man.
Billy Mays photo courtesy - www.pollsb.com
Trump photo courtesy – Moono.com
Something tells me not to piss this lady off
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