Dodging The Razor
I always said that losing my hair or (the rest of) my teeth were the only things that would make me give up trying to be a pop star. I’ve been more vain about my barnett in my time than a van full of Sassoons. Now that it’s had the affrontery to start greying at the temples, I alternate between trying to look distinguished, and looking like an old man with unnaturally dark dyed hair – those match your hair color things on the dye box tops are about as accurate as the burn gauge on my toaster!
So, with hair very much on my mind (sic) I’ve recently been pondering the history of male hairstyles. We’ve had powdered Whigs in powdered wigs, celebrities and salesmen in toupees, mop tops, pudding bowl cuts, the duck-arse, the flowing locks of the Summer of peace and love, spikey punks with radio antenna mohawks, and now gelled soccer stars with their almost but not quite-mohawks, afros, corn rows, short back and sides, the traditional I-have-something-growing-on-my-head-that-does-whatever-it-wants Anglo Saxon look.
But whatever happened to comb-overs? These days, men shave their heads bald the first time they notice a few strands of hair going down the shower drain.
A lot of my uncles used to have comb-overs, the men in the James family often went bald in their twenties. I still have a full head of hair, and yes, I know, so did our milkman!
But comb-overs were very entertaining to the rest of us, especially in high winds. I used to love watching them unravel at Christmas as my uncles sank pint after pint of good cheer. Watching Sir Bobby Charlton and Nobby Stiles use their comb-overs to flay the hides off the Germans during the 1966 World Cup final was a highlight of my formative years.
And the thing about shaved heads is that, in my hirsute and not-so humble opinion, they don’t suit all men – especially Caucasians who sometimes look like they’ve been suffering radiation treatment. Asking a bald man if his health is okay is sort of the male equivalent of a pregnant woman asking an overweight woman when her baby is due.
So come on chaps, get the Brycreem and the nylon combs out and get sculpting. Leave the shaved heads to Kojak, Brunner, and the other billiard balls.
Causes Luke James Supports
Doctors Without Borders