Rare Hair

It Is With our hair that we make those statements about ourselves that we want the world to understand. The decision to part it on one side or on the other--or down the middle--is one that is reached after agonizing self-examination. Hence, seeing a young lady whose head looks as if it had undergone electroshock raises more questions than it resolves. Whatever happened to pretty? Well, it just doesn't live here anymore. Instead, we've got rowdy new tenants walking around on our streets. And they couldn't give two hoots what we think of their tress dressing, so it's not as though they were making a statement with their hair. But after we recover from the shock of the new, we can see the fun of it. Why not, after all, shave half your head, bolt on a few jewels and let aquamarine explode where once there was blonde? Why not pull down your pants and refashion your most intimate coiffure into a remake of How Green Was My Valley? After a while, it makes perfect sense. Linoleum green and puce and magenta and fake-fur fuchsia are kind of cute. Besides, what else is eating up your time after you've made the decision not to go to business school?