So I was looking through some of the Milan men's shows for fashion week and saw this amazing haircut that I am determined to have.
It looks kind of like a fifties throw back greaser....think elvis meets john travolta in Grease times two. I just posted the picture. I didn't even know I could do that. Well there you are.
So I went to my hair guy (I can't bear to write hairdresser for some reason...even though what comes now is even gayer than going to a hair"dresser" so I don't know what my deal is"
Anyway. My last hair girl...(still sounds better than dresser) was one of my best friends until she hated me. DAMN. Never piss off someone who cuts your hair or you are f**ked. Especially when they are good. Then you are back in that sea of people who will mullet you and f*ck your sh*t completely up.
I remember once my dearest friends Deshja was living way upper east side and she had THE MOST beautiful raven hair and it was lusted after by everyone growing up in high school. That and the fact she looks like a beautiful version of Annette Benning when she was young in "Postcards from the Edge" Yeah. Pretty offensive. So anyway. We were in New York...In school and poor. So we were hanging out with our friend George and she decided (PS the song C'est Si Bon Eartha Kitt sings while Diane Keaton writes to in in that movie where she shags Jack Nicolson and she has the dream house and her daughter does something, she almost marries keanu reeves and then there's a heart attack and something and she marries Jack....anyway. The song just came on...while I was writing. I am diane Keaton. I am a bit like her neurotic characters...hmm. Andy Hall. Anyway...)
So Deshja, George (another friend from forever high school days) and I were walking around and Deshja decides to get a minor "trim" to her long trademark lovely locks and because we had no money and any moron can trim an inch of the back of your long hair we go into this little shit salon where no one spoke much english (DANGER WILL ROBINSON) Because it was a trim. A trim. Split ends wah-lah. Done. Five seconds.
So. Deshja sits down and George and I grab magazines....mostly in spanish with telemundo girls with big boobs and a good drag queen amount of makeup painfully smiling at us...and Deshja says to the woman...who is already confused...( I SAAAAID DAAAAANGER WILL ROOOOBBBBBBINNNNSON!) and Deshja says " I just want a trim" the woman "Trim?" Deshja "just a little shorter" doing an inch size with her fingers. The woman "Short hair cut?" Deshja "No...just a trim a little shorter" and again did the inch sign with her finger. "Okay" said the woman. The only English word I think she really knew.
So George and I look up just in time to see the woman take her scissors and take one HUGE cut into deshja's gorgeous hair. Um. And by "cut" I mean she hacked off ...all but about 6 inches of her mid back long hair. Deshja sat. Shocked. George and I Immediately hid back behind the magazines there was no way for us to read.
Um so Deshja sat in shock and the woman hacked the rest of it off until deshja realized what was happening and LOST HER SHIT.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!?!!?" "short cut" the woman said. Deshja got up and started losing her mind on this woman " I CAME IN FOR A TRIM. FOR A TRIIIIM!!! AND YOU CUT ALL MY HAIR OFF?!!!! I SAID AN INCH" As if NOW the woman was going to realize that an inch was what she was doing with her hand all along. Then she started balling. Wailing. And all the Women who spoke no english and cut bad hair came over saying how beautiful it was and Deshja lost her shit further " GET AWAY FROM ME! This is HORRIBLE" "no No it's pretty" the ladies said. " NO IT IS NOT PRETTY! IT IS UGLY AS FUCK AND YOU ARE AWFUL AND HORRIBLE AND I CANNOT BELIEVE WHAT YOU DID" And she bawling ran out of the salon screaming through tears to me and George who seemed to both have gown mute with shock. "WHAT AM I GOING TO DO???' She wept with tears running down her face. So George and I did what good faggot friends do. Lied. "No...Deshja...it looks new (awful) and we can make it cute with little clips (no way in hell)" "You think" Deshja said. "Yes, oooooffffffff course we can" In Deshja's eyes a glimmer of hope. Rush up to the apartment...get into the bathroom (where are those fucking CLIPS) and we try to lie about the massive damage. Until she starts crying again "I LOOK UUUUGGGLLY" I said "Deshja...what about some clips" And Deshja had finally lost it completely " FUCK THE CLIPS...I DON'T WANT YOUR FUCKING CLIPS!!!" Soo it was a long time until the hair came back. It was the worst haircut mullet thing I had ever seen....bless her. God it took a long time to come back. Bless my beautiful girl. DAMN that was bad. I wish I had a before and after pic. But I guess that would have been a little insensitive in the moment....to ask for a photo. Like people photographing natural disasters or people drowning in a hurricane...um...put down the fucking camera and help the little girl drowning asshole. (yes. I stopped the trying to put * in the curse words. It is takes to much time and everyone knows I am saying fuck anyway.)
Anyway.... I digress (no shit?)
So I go in yesterday to my hair guy and he is amazing. French. Married. Cool and his accent is charming and he wears skinny jeans as a french man can...and that make me look like miss piggy legs and I cannot. We talk about kite surfing and rock climbing and he gets very excited and I pretend that I would love a vacation of such when I would rather be drunk and messaged. But I listen. Then we have a good moment of me about to fall asleep from not sleeping and someone touching my head....and he starts talking about hair in the fashion shows in Milan.
I perked up because I had just taken the picture above and had it on my phone. "OH MY GOD. I know...I have this pic and fell in love with it" EXXXACCCTLY (remember to say that with a french accent...but a sweet one....not a condescending dick head way. He is a doll.
It was then I realized. I need this hair....on my head. I must have known this when I took the picture. But now I knew. I neeeeeded it.
So he was cutting my hair and we were talking and mentioning how boring everyone's hair is in NY. Men. Conservative or buzzed. And women. Same or same with some sameness. And lord no one is blond naturally...yet everyone is blond. THAT SHIT IS EXPENSIVE...or simply looks wrong and bad.
So I sat there. I need to do something. I had been having a horrible week and this was the answer. Random fifties hair to scare people.
Soo I ask him to do it. "Reeeeelzee?" ( i love his accent)
And so he starts and has to part it down the middle and then make two sides....both sides above my ears was totally gelled and slicked back....then the middle is now parted and hanging long. So then he takes a comb and has to tease....yes tease....like girls bangs in the 80's....my hair to the point it stands up. I kept imagining myself having to do this process every morning before work....in the gym locker room....you think I am not getting laid NOW....can you imagine after THAT process. LOLOLOL
So after teasing the hair to look like a unkept wasp nest meets bride of frankenstein.....he takes one side and starts rolling it into the middle part and "zen you....damn I need ze bobby pinz"
Yes. Bobby Pins. Now I am going to need to both tease....and bring along bobby pins to the gym. Next is make up and a man girdle. Clip on teeth. Lashes? I mean slippery slope and I am going to work as Lady Ga Ga. I love the idea of me walking into a meeting in those crystal alexander mcqueen shoes she wears towards the end of the "bad Romance" video. lol
So yes. He rolls both sides into themselves and puts about four bobby pins in my head to hold the curls in place.
Honestly. I was obsessed. This would be great for singing....my amy winehouse look that hopefully wouldn't end up like me doing what she did on the Charlotte Church show. Have you seen that? Yes. Soo wrong. Google Amy Winehouse and Charlotte Church sing "beat it" You will never be right again.
So he loves it. I love it. And I am walking into the grey of Manhattan in the winter with a pep in my step because I have hair only I would dare to wear....it seems...
What was shocking....and this is NYC....is how people started like I had half my face burned off or basically like I had my hair shaped like a huge penis coming out of my head. I might as well have.
EVERYONE couldn't help but stare....some to comment. AMAZING. I didn't know I even HAD this power. And now everyone should be scared because if I can do this with a haircut from the fifties imagine what other ways I can offend people with little to no effort. This only took four bobby pins.
Mom Said she hated it...which means I am DEFINITELY heading in the right direction and Dad, as only he could, comes back with "I will foot the bill for a crewcut."
Four bobby pins.
So when you hear of this man in NY going to work in a crystal green onesee with greaser hair and alexander mcqueen heels and geometric sparkly patterns around his eyes singing "ra-ra rahrahrah, Ga-ga-gagaga" You will know who it is....
And it started....with only four bobby pins.