Friday Five: Top five hair cuts and or styles that I would do well to avoid in the future
#5. Sweet spikes man. This goes back to my bucket-o-gel days. Dollar store, 70 oz. This is such a late-90's normal guy hair cut. My mom probably loves it. My face is fat. It is still fat.
#4. The butt cut. So around this time period (7th or 8th grade) the butt cut was all the rage. My friend Mikey had a butt cut. Grey had a butt cut (although his parents also allowed him to have a rat tail, of which i was infinitely jealous. So now I have one). There was an on going battle between me and Mikey about who had the thickest, bestest hair. No joke. One fateful day in Mr. McKnaughton's shop class, we were learning how to measure super tiny stuff. Like hair. So he asked for a few follicles from around the class. Mikey and I obviously volunteered. Rivulets of sweat were drizzling down my back, as we awaited the results. This was my one chance to outshine Mikey. Sure, he could kick my ass when it came to karate and wrestle fighting on the trampoline. Indeed he was a more proficient Teken, Warcraft II, and Day of the Tentacle player. But if I my hair was truly thicker....oh the glory. As the results of the various thicknesses were eloquently read by that truly inspiring shop teacher, I watched Mikey's head hang in shame, stringy thin hair covering his eyes like a cheap tattered curtain. Boo-ya.
#3. Embarrassingly enough, I believe this was 9th grade. Dear lord, what did my mother do to me. First mistake. Button up denim shirt. I feel like I have seen at least one denim-clad family photo in just about every Utah household I have ever graced with my presence. Why? How was "Hey, lets get the family together and wear jeans on our chests and take a picture by a fence somewhere" ever a good idea? Blue, from head to toe. The girls jeans probably didn't have butt pockets. Extra flattering.
I feel like this haircut is some kind of a wave-butt cut hybrid. It looks so smooth. Fluffy. Not hot. My teeth
look great too.
#2. At this point in my life I was know throughout the family as "plastic head." This was when the bucket-o-gel was first introduced to me. Much cheaper than L.A. looks mega-hold. At the end of the day it was always real fun to lift up small chunks of my hair and crunch the gel between my finger tips. My mom was pissed (and still is pissed I think) that I snuck that red and black bead necklace into the photo shoot. I guess it clashed with my shiny Alaska fish shirt.
#1. Denim shirt. Christmas sweater. High Sierra Jeans. Ocean Pacific "skate" shoes, complete with shiny black stripe. Hot model-esque pose. Gold rimmed glasses. Hair, fine as silk.
On second thought, this is probably the best Me ever.