Hair Unnatural

I've noticed a lot of Atomic Pink hair lately. Brighter than bright hair colors are today's fashion choice: Limelight, Blue Mayhem, Napalm Orange, Pimpin Purple. But I've noticed Atomic Pink hair the most.

The other day I was standing in line at a fast food burger place with my octogenarian friend Gordon. It was a busy lunch hour, the lines stacked four and five deep. Gordon surveyed the room, his eyes finally coming to rest on one of the workers behind the counter.

"Look at that girl with the pink hair!" he said, laughing. "Looks unnatural, if you ask me."

Unnatural. Remember the Highlights magazine: "What's Wrong With This Picture"? Under the fluorescent lighting, the girl's long atomic pink hair appeared alien. It definitely caught my eye, kind of like a sewing basket tucked under the seat of a van, or a raccoon in broad daylight, cruising down a crowded sidewalk. For some, the color is the ultimate in pretty. For others, it's exacerbating.

Gordon's discomfort reminded me of 1986, when some friends and I visited the University of Washington. It was summer, and on the lawn outside the Henry Art Gallery something unusual was going on. Several students had carefully arranged themselves as a tableau, and completely coated themselves in the color blue. Any one stopping to check them out was free to wander among them. In low voices the blue people were uttering words that expressed blue thoughts: "sky" "sadness" "ink" "jeans". A handout described the installation, a series of different colors on different days.

We responded on such a visceral level that we returned the next day for the event listed on the flyer. Same experience--those real people completely coated in an unnatural color, only this time in gut punch green. One tourist, a retired gentleman in white shorts and white socks (and yes, sandals) really got in the face of one of the artists.

"What are you, some kind of communist?" he bellowed at the guy.

"Broccoli grass splitpea soup moss"

"Cut it out! Now!" the retiree said.

"Pine tree Washington State flag four-leaf clover"

The wife pulled the tourist away before he could do the kid physical harm. The man's distress was palpable; I worried he was going to suffer some kind of stroke.

Unnatural colors can elicit visceral reactions, like suspicion and apoplexy. Then again, they can be just plain kewl.

Hair Wiggin'

There is evidence that hair wigs were first used by Egypians around 3000 BC. In the hot climate, lice and other hair vermin proliferated, so the Egyptians learned to shave their heads and replace their real hair with elaborate wigs--fancy, braided, sculptural works of hair art affixed to their bare scalps with beeswax. This bust of a young woman (called Meritaten), from a collection in the Louvre, is just one example.

When it comes to bald heads in the 21st Century, if we aren't going for the look intentionally, the loss of hair can be debilitating. This is especially true for men, around 40 million of whom suffer from genetic baldness. Some men are desperate enough to try the combover. Others opt for the toupée.

These days, due to hair replacement therapy, etc., toupées are waning in popularity, but they're definitely still with us, for which I'm glad. For one thing, they're an endless source of entertainment. Toupées can blow away in a strong wind, or get knocked askew, or be irresistible to the practical joker. William Shatner's toupée is the subject of an entire blog .

What's creepiest for me is not when the toupée is on , but when it's off. Doesn't it look alive? Imagine coming across one in the dark, or in the back of a cabinet. Totally wiggin'.

(Photo attributed to adhaiku.com.)

While I don't wear a wig, I'm drawn to the idea, especially to hair as art. On Mathilda's Anthropology Blog you can find more examples of Egyptian wigs. Hair art--in a big way. I love it.