Last week was pretty makeup-heavy (hello, Jeanine—I re-read that story three times over the weekend), so let’s skip on over to hair and even the score.
I’ve been keeping a little secret since the summer. Inspired by Aymeline’s wraparound under-shave, I marched into L’Atelier de Laurie one steamy July afternoon and told Mauricio to pick up his clipper. I imagine this sort of request gives a (good) hairdresser mixed emotions—“Yessss! Most exciting job of the day!”—tempered by feelings of responsibility—“…but are you sure? This is kind of drastic.” Yes yes yes, Mauricio, go for it. Fear not, I didn’t go for the Guido-fied runway version—just your classic mid-ear to mid-ear 1990’s throwback.
I love, love, love my under-shave. (My friend Nick hates the term under-shave; thinks it sounds “obscene”. Any suggestions for a new name?) For me—meaning on me—meaning this is my very personal opinion, it keeps having long hair (and wearing 1940’s-esque printed-prim dresses) from getting too girly sometimes. I’ll wear a Louis Vuitton frock one day, hair up, and an Alex Wang skater-boy ensemble the next, hair down. But the same could be said for lipstick—isn’t it fun to throw on a red lip when you’re just in jeans and a t-shirt?
Like many a beauty choice, it’s no joke in the upkeep department. Once a week, Phillips clipper set to “2”. I’d do it myself—Orlando Pita swore up and down that I could—but that really seems like an accident waiting to happen. So Nick comes by and we have a ten-minute hair party, and wind up talking about beauty and perfumes (he’s recently taken to wearing Tom Ford’s new women’s fragrance Violet Blonde). Hey, a little rule-breaking never hurt anyone. Growing this out, however, will be a real pain.
Photographed by Tommy Ton in Paris, October 2011