Elements Of Style

Curly, wavy, straight. Fried, dried, oiled. Fake, dyed, natural. Long, medium, short. From all sizes, shapes and colors, wild and tamed manes are cruising the streets upon dreamyheaded teenagers, causing blatant stares and double takes from disgusted (or pleased) adults and peers.

Hair: a direct way of displaying a personal style.

And while it offers several rewards, personal expression can often result in painful circumstances, from catty insults to heartless violence. It takes a brave soul to break from society’s tightly bound circle.

“People with wild hair really have the guts to go outside of what everyone else wants,” says Rose Weaver, a senior at Mead. “I really admire them.”

Although Weaver’s own hair is unique in its curling tresses and length (it falls in a reddish-blond wave past the middle of her back), she denies it being anything out of the ordinary.

She freely admits, “I would never be brave enough to spike or dye my hair.”

Others aren’t so timid.

“I personally think regular hair is lame,” says Ferris junior Aubree Lill, who presents her own unique style with a head full of dreadlocks. Inspired by Bob Marley and the thirst for something different, Lill lathered her black hair with honey, molding mud, molasses and beeswax. Her friends find her scent to be incredibly appealing.

Other people, such as LC sophomore Adia Gant, turned their heads from the natural and found extensions.

Like Janet Jackson in the movie “Poetic Justice,” many of today’s youth are gripping synthetic hair onto their scalps. The entire process of braiding the new mane to the old takes at least four hours. Sound like a grueling way to fix up your hair? For Gant, who spent eight hours last Sunday getting her ‘do, it was worth it.

“Braids look traditionally African,” Gant says, “and I enjoy changing my hair. I’m not a really bold person, but I do like to do something different every once in a while.”

Of course, not everyone finds it worth the time to change their look. Students, hurrying for the bus or to make it before first period, often wash and go. A perfect example is North Central senior Corey Birden.

“I just comb it so it won’t get ratty,” he explains. “Takes me about 30 seconds.”

Birden does not take the time experimenting with dyes or contemporary styles. He simply wakes up, showers, combs, and, upon his father’s insistence, will occasionally get a haircut.

“It’s kind of mod,” Birden explains. “Sort of like the Beatles with long hair in back, short in front.”

Scaun Boughter, a Ferris sophomore, goes for a more contemporary look. Often compared with the style of Kurt Cobain, Boughter changes his hair nearly twice a month, beginning a year and a half ago by dying his hair red. Like a bag of Skittles, Boughter is a whopping array of colors.

“I really think it’s important to not be trendy,” Boughter says. “If I see somebody with a color I want to try, I’ll often wait until they change before I dye my hair that color.”

Sometimes, however, Boughter steps even further away from society’s regular motifs. Twice now he has arrived at school with a towering green or yellow mohawk balanced stiffly upon his head.

Although he receives numerous compliments on how “interesting” his hair appears, he often runs into numerous problems as well. While taking a student driver’s test, he was marked down for having “hazardous hair.”

Boughter experienced an even more powerful blow while walking downtown with his hair dyed a bright pink. A group of thugs, obviously not pleased with his color choice, jumped him, threw him against a brick wall and punched him in the face.

“I would love to say something to them now,” Boughter grimaces, “but you couldn’t print it in the newspaper.”

Lill has also been insulted, although not quite as badly. Whenever mingling with people from other schools, she notices some pretty disgusted glares.

“Prep girls are the worst,” Lill says. “They sometimes say something stupid like, ‘What a smelly stoner.”’ The worst comment Gant ever heard came when a girl informed her that her weave was simply a way of being something you’re not. Gant, agitated not only by the fact that extensions are not a weave, was also annoyed by the girl’s cynical attitude.

“Don’t judge people by the color of their hair or how they do their hair. They’re experimenting with something creative,” Gant advises. “Don’t be lazy and ignorant, get off your butt and ask them about it, even if you don’t like their style.”

Nick McCarthy, a junior at St. George’s, even finds most compliments annoying. His hair, naturally curly with somewhat of a “fro-like” appearance, brings up nasal comments like “Wow, that’s wild.”

“I get tons of compliments, and they are all fairly annoying,” McCarthy mutters. “I just say thank you and end it with that.”

Not everyone would agree with McCarthy, however, and most people find compliments gratifying. Gant received her favorite compliment at a restaurant. While paying her check, a man with his wife tapped her gingerly on the shoulder and said, “Your braids are just beautiful.”

Boughter often hears comments about his originality. People usually ask him what the next color will be. Lill beams whenever anyone mentions how “interesting” her hair is.

And Weaver, accustomed to receiving numerous compliments on the beauty of her tresses, often hears people sigh, “I wish I had long, curly hair.”

Yet the most rewarding objective is not the compliments or exclamations over their manes, but their own ability to obtain the hairstyle that fits them best.

“Whenever I hear an insult,” Boughter says, “I brush it off. I’m not trying to enforce anything on anyone else, I’m just being me. It’s my own personal expression of individuality.”