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January 02, 2003

Hair today, gone tomorrow

The Post’s Hank Steuver takes a stab at what’s in and out. It’s a pretty strange list, and the few readers who’ve chimed in on the forums concur with me. Of note:

Nix the Tin-Tin haircuts once and for all, guys, (especially you gay fellers) and think shaggy and sloppy, a la Jake Gyllenhaal and Conor Oberst. (A veritable zit-geist!)

Ha. Being a wearer of said haircut, I’m actually more amused than offended. I happen to like my new ‘do, and am glad to have finally found a name for it, rather than what I usually try to communicate to my hairdresser as “clipped on the sides and back, a little longer on the top, and spiked up at the front.” (I myself admit, it’s pretty gay, at least stereotypically, but I daresay that’s what I like about it.) Heh, Tin-Tin. Nice.

And by the way, to keep my coif in tip-top Tin-Tin shape, I use Salon Selectives control[D] substance. It’s wonderfully goopy and smells like apples. (The website specifies: “…with a twist of cucumber and Asian pear.”) I’ve had to stop myself from spreading it on toast. Repeatedly.

Back east

WASHINGTON, D.C. — Whee, I’m back. The plane I took from SFO to O’Hare was decorated inside for New Year’s with little streamers every few rows. Passengers weren’t exactly dancing in the aisle—it was a redeye departing at 11:45 p.m.—but it was festive nonetheless. The gate agent who checked my ID said she’d never seen a D.C. license before. I know, it’s not a big deal, but I felt special anyway.