Some men get their hair cut; other men are their haircut. From Dylan and James Dean to Harry Styles’s hairstyle, we humbly bow before their flowing locks
DENMARK - MAY 01: Photo of Bob DYLAN; posed, looking to camera, wearing sunglases, holding cigarette (Photo by Jan Persson/Redferns)
RedfernsBob Dylan
The Full Bohemian
As he morphed from earnest folkie to counterculture prophet, his hair grew from a tufted thatch to a mushroom cloud. And he was gloriously, characteristically weirdo-poetic about it.
As he morphed from earnest folkie to counterculture prophet, his hair grew from a tufted thatch to a mushroom cloud. And he was gloriously, characteristically weirdo-poetic about it.
“All this talk about long hair is just a trick,” he said in 1966. “It’s been thought up by men and women who look like cigars—the anti-happiness committee. They’re all freeloaders and cops. You can tell who they are: They’re always carrying calendars, guns, or scissors.”
The Pompadour: A Pain in the Ass (But Worth It)
The ultimate high-risk, high-reward haircut requires a lot of product and a lot of patience. Fortunately, you have David Lynch, Alex Turner, Morrissey, and James Dean as role models.
The Cut: Ask your barber to go shorter on the sides and leave layered length on top. (Don’t worry, he’ll know what that means.)
The Styling: On wet hair, comb gel or a light pomade back from your forehead—all the way through to the roots. Blow-dry back and up, creating height from roots to tips.
The Finishing Touch: Once your hair dries, use your fingers and some more product to define individual pieces as you like. Finish with hair spray. Let no one touch it.
*Advice from master hairstylist Jon Reyman
Unexpected Hair Gods
Larry David The Power Doughnut
GC Images“The bald man is the better lover. First, you have the appreciation factor. The bald man is so thrilled to be in bed with a woman that he’ll do anything and everything, and all with tremendous gusto. And, of course, there’s the testosterone. We’ve got it in spades. That’s why we went bald in the first place.”
Illustations: Andrew Colin Beck
TRENDING THIS VERY SECOND
![River_18[2].jpg](http://media.gq.com/photos/56f2aa7c912cce1f4dba0006/master/w_400/River_18%5B2%5D.jpg)
Credit: Michael Tighe
The Matinee Idol
My roomate and I had a close encounter with River Phoenix at a near-empty San Francisco airport one night in 1991, right after falling in love with him during a matinee of My Own Private Idaho, and spending the entire drive to SFO inventing lewd slow-jam songs about him. When we saw him, it was as though we’d conjured him by magic. He was unshaven, dressed in sweatpants and a hippie necklace. He gave us a head nod. We nodded back. Once safely out of sight we collapsed onto the airport floor, stifling silent screams and hitting each other until deciding to hide behind a couch and spy on him.
My roomate and I had a close encounter with River Phoenix at a near-empty San Francisco airport one night in 1991, right after falling in love with him during a matinee of My Own Private Idaho, and spending the entire drive to SFO inventing lewd slow-jam songs about him. When we saw him, it was as though we’d conjured him by magic. He was unshaven, dressed in sweatpants and a hippie necklace. He gave us a head nod. We nodded back. Once safely out of sight we collapsed onto the airport floor, stifling silent screams and hitting each other until deciding to hide behind a couch and spy on him.
Like James Dean before him and Heath Ledger after, River was a male Marilyn Monroe—a universally desirable, gone-too-soon figure possessed of a preternatural it-thing beyond skill or talent, which very well could be described as STAR HAIR. Untamed by grooming products, it revealed itself to be an unconquerable organism that looked like it could grow three inches a day if not battled like kudzu. What impressed you wasn’t just the boar-bristle-brush-density of his hair, which could be attributable to his youth; each strand seemed to be leaping out of his scalp for the raw thrill of exposure to the world—it was one of the engines of his wild, crackling aura.
His heartbreaking death left Hollywood with a gigantic empty barber chair. Others like Leonardo DiCaprio tried to fill it, and sometimes succeeded. But for River fans, no hair will ever fly higher than that of the ascending Phoenix.—Cintra Wilson
UNITED STATES - JANUARY 01: Michael Jordan (Photo by The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty Images)
The LIFE Picture Collection/Gett
The Mr. Clean
• Every man under 50 who is purposely bald has been touched by the long arm of Michael Jordan. Rather than attempt to pass off his filmy shadow of vellus as real hair, Jordan accepted Mother Nature’s will—then he shoved it back in her face, shaving his head clean. Suddenly he looked even more athletic. Veins rippled backward when he strained. The curves of his smooth dome mirrored those of his biceps. The effect was greatest when he sweated, which made him look as if he had been carved from marble and polished to a high sheen. Gatorade executives beheld that glistening head an saw valuable advertising space; they colored Jordan’s perspiration fluorescent orange and turned it into a marketing campaign. With the swipe of a razor, Jordan not only created an iconic silhouette for himself; he shaved the way for generations of premature baldies.—Caity Weaver
Illustations: Andrew Colin Beck
An Open Letter From GQ to Tiger Woods
Dear Tiger, You’ll never win another major with that hair. We know it’s usually hidden under your Nike cap, which we assume you are contractually obligated to wear even while sleeping, but still. You are pulling a giant hair bogey. See Michael Jordan up there? He had the right idea. Be like Mike. Thanks, GQ
Albert Einstein, physicist, Germany, Privat
Sueddeutsche Zeitung Photo“If I were to start taking care of my grooming, I would no longer be my own self.”
The Finger in the Socket
Einstein’s unruly wilderness of a hairdo isn’t simply the product of a frenetic and easily distracted mind. It’s a stylistic expression of the uncontainable joy he took in his work, a follicular manifestation of unbridled discovery. (Either that or just he didn’t give a shit. "If I were to start taking care of my grooming, I would no longer be my own self,” he wrote to his second wife, Elsa, in 1913.) In any event, his look, which fell somewhere between “auspiciously disheveled” and “currently chewing on an electric fence,” became the archetype for both Mad Scientist and the notion that genius is neither organized nor predictable. Einstein, after all, was also a violinist, pianist, sailing enthusiast, and all-around champion of play. He rarely wore socks. He didn’t just rewrite the laws of physics; he also, through his hair, destroyed the misperception of science as a stiff, antiseptic enterprise, laying the groundwork for cheerful descendants like Neil DeGrasse Tyson and the MythBusters. All these years later he reminds us that no matter how important our work is (or we think it is), it’s crucial to retain that touch of madness.—Jeff Vrabel
Einstein’s unruly wilderness of a hairdo isn’t simply the product of a frenetic and easily distracted mind. It’s a stylistic expression of the uncontainable joy he took in his work, a follicular manifestation of unbridled discovery. (Either that or just he didn’t give a shit. "If I were to start taking care of my grooming, I would no longer be my own self,” he wrote to his second wife, Elsa, in 1913.) In any event, his look, which fell somewhere between “auspiciously disheveled” and “currently chewing on an electric fence,” became the archetype for both Mad Scientist and the notion that genius is neither organized nor predictable. Einstein, after all, was also a violinist, pianist, sailing enthusiast, and all-around champion of play. He rarely wore socks. He didn’t just rewrite the laws of physics; he also, through his hair, destroyed the misperception of science as a stiff, antiseptic enterprise, laying the groundwork for cheerful descendants like Neil DeGrasse Tyson and the MythBusters. All these years later he reminds us that no matter how important our work is (or we think it is), it’s crucial to retain that touch of madness.—Jeff Vrabel
Unexpected Hair Gods
“Look at me—I couldn’t be anything other than a rock singer with this hair.”—Rod Stewart, The Peacock
The Slick
At 71, the Miami Heat president (and two-time GQ cover star) reflects on his signature hairstyle.
GQ: When did you first start wearing your famous look?
Pat Riley: I was in between jobs—I’d just retired as a player—and I spent a couple of weeks on the beach. And during that time, I started to comb it back while it was wet. It’s been that way since I was 35, so a long time now.
Pat Riley: I was in between jobs—I’d just retired as a player—and I spent a couple of weeks on the beach. And during that time, I started to comb it back while it was wet. It’s been that way since I was 35, so a long time now.
What’s your routine?
First you’ve gotta get the cut right. It’s gotta be a layered cut, done by somebody who really knows what he’s doing. It can’t be more than three and a half inches long. Then you shower, shampoo, spend very little time with a dryer. You put whatever goop you like through it and then finger-comb it. I rarely use a brush or a comb. You’ll know you’ve got the right haircut when you can finger-comb it and it stays back.
First you’ve gotta get the cut right. It’s gotta be a layered cut, done by somebody who really knows what he’s doing. It can’t be more than three and a half inches long. Then you shower, shampoo, spend very little time with a dryer. You put whatever goop you like through it and then finger-comb it. I rarely use a brush or a comb. You’ll know you’ve got the right haircut when you can finger-comb it and it stays back.
What products do you use?
“I’m a Paul Mitchell guy—I actually knew him a little bit, he lived out in Malibu. There were some days I had to make it like a helmet; that’s when I’d go with the Sebastian Hi-Contrast Gel. Firm.”
“I’m a Paul Mitchell guy—I actually knew him a little bit, he lived out in Malibu. There were some days I had to make it like a helmet; that’s when I’d go with the Sebastian Hi-Contrast Gel. Firm.”
Did the players ever give you shit about being in GQ?
When I was on the cover in ’89, Mychal Thompson told me, “Coach, you can get too many of those things and make the players jealous.” I said, “Don’t worry, there won’t be many.”—Nick Marino
When I was on the cover in ’89, Mychal Thompson told me, “Coach, you can get too many of those things and make the players jealous.” I said, “Don’t worry, there won’t be many.”—Nick Marino
Illustations: Andrew Colin Beck
No comments:
Post a Comment