I read recently that women of color spend upwards of 9-billion dollars a year on their hair! Hair relaxers, hair weaves, hair extensions and hair color are not only very expensive, but according to the TV host I listened to, it’s an all day event. The women and girls pack a lunch, bring their homework, office work, laptops and favorite new novel to help pass the time.
Well, women of all colors and men for that matter, are obsessed with their hair. Hair, or the lack thereof has preoccupied man and woman since the beginning of time. It matters not the color, the texture, the ethnicity. Hair has always been part of our defining of ourselves and others. Today, more than ever, women and men have options our ancestors only dreamt of. I can imagine Eve, upon meeting Adam, looked upon his abundant locks and thought, “My, my what wonderful hair”.
When we imagine a vision of mythologies strong man: Hercules, I bet besides his taut, tan, glistening muscles and loin cloth, (oh, forgive me, I diverted for a moment) we remember his shoulder length blowing-in-the-wind brown hair.
Zeus, Neptune, Poseidon, were all men of ultimate strength and wisdom who have been depicted throughout time with long hair. Samson, of Samson and Delilah fame, lost his virility and strength when his hair was cut against his will. (Now, who would have done such a thing!)
For today’s man hair is a statement of style, of pizzazz, of machismo, of sex appeal. Since Al Pacino tied his slick mane behind his head in the film Scarface, men everywhere have likewise tied their hair in ponytails - young, middle-age, and older. Receding hairlines have given impetus to the last ditch effort of an outward display of manhood. Any given day men in three piece suits, with attaché cases in hand, can be seen hurriedly flagging down a cab in Manhattan, or catching a plane at O'Hare, with their hair skillfully tied behind their backs in their attempt at nonchalant hipness. Late into the night at the bistros and dance clubs of metropolitan cities and small town pubs, the male dancer often has hair longer than his female partner.
Fabio of romance novel fame is best known for his long, blond hair tossed back and flowing in the wind. Einstein, the most notable genius in the world is instantaneously recognizable by his crop of wild, unkempt hair. Shaft, of sixties fame, (okay, I know I’m dating myself) on the other side of the proverbial coin, made the lack of hair not only acceptable, but downright sexy. Know anyone else that looks so good with a shiny dome?
Hair has been almost as much a fashion statement as the style of clothes. Each era and generation has heralded new dos to cause anxiety and fear in mother's hearts. In its day the crew cut was considered outlandish, but it didn't compare to later hair statements like the mohawk, the color purple, or the Rastafarian dreadlocks. The movie, Ten, and the beauty therein, Bo Derrick, made Zulu knots desirable, even by white girls...and don’t forget Lady Godiva, who wore her hair in a most unique manner giving way to teen dreams and many a Halloween costume.
Hair, sometimes brittle, sometimes graceful, sometimes short, but always desired, has been the topic of conversation and an expression of self since the beginning of time. Cavemen pulled their enemies, and their lovers, by the hair; trapeze artists have swung by their hair; stunt performers have set their hair afire. If what we see on television is a true mirror image, we are beset in constant horror and fear of losing our hair...and for many of us turning this elder corner we are truly overwhelmed with the fear of the possibility of the thinning of our manes.
It’s true there are an inordinate number of so-called remedies. Some glide on easily while others are torturous and grotesque. One can order a video tape on the drug, Rogaine, that touts the benefits of rubbing this medicated concoction upon one's head or endure the pain and horror of plugs standing upright as if at allegiance, as Hugh Downs did a near lifetime ago. The airways abound with once bald or balding men who bought their own hair companies after having their lives transformed because of hair weaved upon their heads.
There's Clairol for women, Gretian Formula for men that's so gradual no one will notice. We can purchase at any corner drug store or Wal-Mart, the hairdini, the hair twister, the barrette, the rat, the pick, the comb, the bump, the spiral brush, the ionic hair dryer, the diffuser. We can pour henna upon our locks to turn them naturally sun-streaked. There's baby shampoo, shampoo for normal hair, for dry hair, for oily hair, for fragile-delicate hair, for chemically-treated hair, for no hair. We can perm our hair, frizz our hair, straighten our hair, ruin our hair. It's never-ending the things we can do to our hair...that is while we have it.
The vamps and sirens of an earlier era always had long, majestically coifed hair, never a hair out of place, even in an open car. (Much like their flawless makeup that never smeared after a kiss and was always in place after a night of sleep.) Today it is almost anything goes - carefree, multi-colored, like tri-colored gold, combed, not combed, contrived disorder - much like the times.
In this, the new millennium, when the best physique, the whitest teeth, and a full head of hair are coveted by almost all science has indulged our timeless preoccupation for the perfect head of hair and the end to baldness forevermore. Perhaps soon we'll too have the answers to end our creeping lack of memory, the infinite fear of Alzheimer’s, Dementia and Senility or perhaps by then it won’t matter if we have hair or not. Nah, we’ll always care if we have hair upon our heads, that our chin hairs are plucked, that our mustaches are non-existent and that our eyebrows are colored in and are not lopsided. Hair, just another indignity of this process some of you have referred to as our “priceless years”.
