Ok, really I could pontificate this for hours on end completely sober. It is not untrue that there is a link between hairdressers and overdone, over processed, over-the-top, (simply put) bad hair. And you can pick em out in a sea of people. I had a friend, Michael Fischer* who was a hairdresser as well and when he would drive by an obvious offender of the profession, would yell out the car window “HAAAAIRRDREEEESSERRR!” as he sped by. The unsuspecting victim (of their own making, of course) would look confused because they weren’t sure if that would be an insult or not. I mean, it shouldn’t be but occasionally when someone picks me out as a hairdresser I have to go home and re-evaluate my whole wardrobe.
Really, though, the answer lies somewhere between Japanese street fashion and The Real Housewives of Orange County. Simply put, once you are around enough people that look insane you forget what insanity looks like. The realness of this came to me after watching the Joan Rivers documentary because at the beginning scene I thought “Holy Lord, she looks nuts” and by the end I thought “Aw, she’s kind of pretty”. And like when I got back from a month long trip to Japan, I was wearing black knee socks with my heels which had been the first fashion offense I noted when I got off the plane in Japan a month earlier.
One of my favorite questions to ask a stylist in an interview is “who’s hair do you like?” and “who’s hair don’t you like?”. Sometimes this can totally stump a stylist, which I always find surprising. It usually means they are following hair magazines instead of fashion. And think about the idea of a stylist emulating a stylist emulating a stylist. It can go so downhill that you’re now the head stylist for Real Housewives of the O.C..
But that doesn’t explain Crocs. Or does it?
*Also responsible for altering the Cedar Court condo sign to Edar Out.
Zoe Deschanel is on my friend Mac’s record label and she was in town and needed her bangs trimmed. Mac asked if I could do it and I said “Oh, yeah, no problem, whenever” and at the same time pondered what poor client was going to get swept from my chair the moment she walked in. She looked amazing, of course and was also super earnest and nice. She sat down and proceeded to explain that she usually likes them “long and a bit blunt with the ends tapered”. I said, “I got this one. Believe me, I’ve done these bangs a million times”. She left and my next client said “I wanna look just like the girl that just left”.
“I’d like The Me, please”
So Jaime and I attended the Arrojo Expo last month in NYC and as we have all at Moshi Moshi pretty much drank the whole bucket of Arrojo Kool-Aid, we were feeling pretty good. Now, I will be a fruit fly for John Simpson any day of the week and I did chat him up quite a bit. You know, the high fives, the fist bumps, the “whoot whoot’s”. Just the usual sycophanting thing that I must do when it’s absolutely necessary to procure a picture of one of my favorite Paul Lynde impersonators. Now I told him that I wanted a picture of either 1) him carrying me like a fetus or 2) me on his back. His reply: “why not both?”. Damn, I love him.
“Yes, girl in the back with the frizzy brown hair? Uh huh, Reeeaaaally? Uh huh.”
So as I was saying…… Sorry! I just can’t get off this curly thing. What can I say? I thought I’d throw in that updo as a distraction so you wouldn’t get bored. I just wanted to talk about my hair because, after all, what is a blog unless it has a bit of self-whatever-it’s-called (where you’re into yourself and you don’t own a thesaurus). I just want to say that after years and I mean YEARS of straightening my hair I just let that thing air dry and had no idea at all what amazing beast unsurfaced. I went into a store and walked passed a tattooed girl with a perfectly flat-ironed asymmetrical a-line bob and thought that if she really wanted to be punk rock, she should try walking around with some curly-ass hair. I mean, you feel like a freak. But in a good way!
Now there is nothing more intimidating than up styles, generally. But Karen has become our reigning Queen of the up style. Mainly because she is such a damn perfectionist and became tired of sweating through her shoulder pads (which she wore UNDER her arms) every time an updo came through the door that she hunkered down on some serious Miagi-style training (you know, raking yards and card shuffling). Now, she is ichi ban numero uno! She has now left us in the dust by adding on some crazy braiding skillz. Can I get a what what?
Whew! Deciding what a first blog post should be about is like picking out a baby name. And, in saying that, I must take the advice I gave myself when coming to that final decision which was “Hell, change it later if ya want. Ya got 18 years”. So without further ado I give you the thing I am most (self)obsessed with. The Perm (should be all caps if you ask me)!
Now, really. Is that not the best looking perm you’ve seen? I mean since Dory Previn?