Daft Old Duffer returns. Guest opinion articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication. Ed
During a TV reality show recently, one of the young-ish males greeted a newly arrived pal by congratulating him on his new hair style.
A remark that in my young day would have resulted in at least one bloody nose.
For during much of my life, hairstyles for men comprised two variations. ‘Short back and Sides’ or ‘Just a Trim’ And any variation on same was regarded with deep suspicion, along with lavender-hue shirts and aftershave.
‘Short Back and Sides’
Personally, I’ve always gone for ‘Short Back and Sides’, on the principal that hair is stuff you need to keep out of your eyes for as long as possible and a visit to the barbers ate severely into bus fares and fags money.
I can recall only two occasions when the idea that hair was something to be styled was presented to me.
Trying something new
The first was in my very early teens when the barber suggested with some diffidence, that if I parted my hair on the right side instead of the left, it would be more inclined to lay flat and orderly.
I was truly startled, for as everyone knew back then, men parted on the left and women parted on the right.
Excepting only a handful of male weirdos that, to everyone’s silent disapproval, parted in the middle.
It was an immutable, fact of custom, approved by Church, Royalty and quite probably The Law Of The Land.
Requiring handfuls of Brylcreem
Yet my hair WAS an unruly, stick-out whichever-way hedge, no matter how thickly I plastered it with Brylcreem, and I was just beginning to suspect there was more to girls than whispering and giggles.
So I gave my consent and the angel of a hairdresser swiftly moved the parting to the right of my scalp. Whereupon, miracle upon wonderful miracle, my hair presented itself to my reflected gaze, neat and flat and orderly, exactly as promised.
Of course it required all my courage to leave the barber’s shop and present myself to the gaze of the world in such an outlandish guise. But I brazened it out, coldly staring down the jeers of my peers – I had a nice line in brutal gangster expressions in those days – and even the outraged sneers of my oh-so-manly teachers. And after a while my eccentricity was accepted. Or at least no longer remarked upon – in my presence.
Would sir like ‘something more’?
Then, in my late teens, came styling hint number two.
Again the barber leaned in close to my ear in mid-chop, this time discreetly asking if I had ever considered ‘something more’.
Which quite startled me, for that was the way men were reminded they might – just might – need a condom or two over the weekend. And in those days,unmarried teenagers simply never stumbled across that need.
But I quickly realised that was not what the barber was hinting at.
He was in fact offering me a perm.
Horrifying thought
The thought of turning up for work sporting a tightly controlled cap of curls, perhaps tinted, rendered my neck uncomfortably hot. After all, by then I was working among men who bathed once a week at most, and had double covers on their pillows in order to absorb the hair grease.
So I politely but firmly declined, offering up a false laugh to show I was a man of the world and not at all embarrassed.
And switched to another barbers to avoid any further possibility of my manhood being brought into question.
Modern trends
So the modern trend for otherwise normal young men to spend pounds having their crowning glory tweaked and tinted and buffed into a variety of weird shapes – and to spend time admiring themselves in a mirror – is something that leaves me bemused and bewildered.
And at the same time uneasy. Have I, through all these years been missing something?
I ask because each time I visit the barbers even now, I get asked if I want the hair at the back of my neck trimmed to a natural taper finish, or ‘cut square’
And I don’t know why. Is there something about having a man’s nape hair cut straight across that renders him more attractive to women? Have I, by always shrugging and muttering ‘as it comes’ unwittingly spurned the advances of willing women, deprived myself of conquests that could have otherwise been mine?
I want to know yet I’m afraid to ask. The answer might fill my remaining years with deep dark gloom.
Image: Dave Fayram under CC BY 2.0
