A few season’s ago, I was sitting at a show eavesdropping on the conversations around me — you know, hunting for juicy gossip — when I overheard a beauty editor in front of me saying, in all seriousness, “the new hair is hair. Just hair. That’s what they’re doing backstage. It’s just, like, hair.”
“Wait. Just, like, hair? That’s genius!” said her neighbor.
“I know, right? Just, like, hair. Like, the models’ own hair. Just, like, hair.”
They went on like that, back and forth, for a good 5 minutes. It was riveting in its idiocy.
Wherever those beauty bozos are now, I like to think that they are having a similar conversation about the current hair trend of the moment — no-hair hair (and its frequent friend, the no-face face).
It all started in New York when Raf Simons sent a bevy of boys and girls down the runway at Calvin Klein in all manner of colorful knit balaclavas.
There was no hair, but there was a lot of underboob.
Also, these weird, hooded dickies were happening.
Then came Marc Jacobs, where it wasn’t just the hair that was covered, but much of the models’ faces too.
Well, technically their faces weren’t really covered per se, they were just hard to see under all the dramtically-lit, capital-F Fashion they were wearing.
There was a lot of shoulder action, though. Hair, no. Shoulders, YAS!
Then it was off to London, where Gareth Pugh and Richard Quinn each made their own case for no-hair hair (and no-face face).
Pugh opened his show with an “industrial porcupine” kind of thing, with shoulder pads a la Marc Jacobs. It was all very “working girl goes to hell” — a comment on capitalism and misogyny in the era of #metoo and growing income inequality. Or just, like, Gareth Pugh being Gareth Pugh.
Richard Quinn, on the other hand, seemed to take his inspiration from Queen Elizabeth II, who sat front row at his show and whose love of covering her hair in a colorful scarf is well documented.
Of course, Quinn took the whole look a step further by completely covering his models’ faces as well, but hey, Liz still dug it. “Ooh,” she seemed to be saying. “Ooooooooooooh.”
Quinn also sent models out in these funny little glitter head sculptures that were very “Julien d’Ys at the dollar store for Comme des Garcons.” In a good way.
Next, it was off to Milan, where Valentino’s Pierpaolo Piccioli indulged in his favorite monastic habit — see what I did there? — on behalf of Moncler, with a capsule collection of tightly-hooded, floor-length puffer capes and dresses in black, white, and just about every other color in the Pantone-sponsored rainbow.
Next, it was Gucci’s turn to ride the no-hair train. And boy, did designer Alessandro Michele have fun with that! This time the balaclavas came adorned with everything from pompoms to pagodas.
The veil made an appearance or two, here in lilac lace.
And there were lots and lots of rhinestones. As well as some exposed breasts.
There was even a majestic no-hair ponytail.
And babushkas! Lots babushkas. Both with and without eyebrows.
Even at Versace, the house that sex built — where fabulous blowouts are practically a part of the brand’s DNA — Donatella sent approximately half of her glamazons out on the runway with their heads partially or fully covered.
No-hair hair. It’s, like, a thing. Genius!