age, becoming the first skinheads. 
Later, the name “skinhead” would 
become associated with ugly 
nationalist rhetoric groups, but 
initially, it was just a descriptor 
for those who chose to buzz their 
hair in search of a bare-bones, 
stripped look.

Using appearance to solidify 

their 
identity, 
English 
youth 

began 
wearing 
ripped 
and 

distressed clothes, black, leather 
and, of course, spiking and cutting 
their hair. London punks gathered 
in places like Sloane Square to 
organize and meet other people 
like them, but as the movement 
gained traction, outsiders would 
often come to their hangouts to 
gawk at the variety of hairstyles 
on display. One of these haircuts, 
arguably the most famous of the 
punk movement, was the mohawk 
or 
mohican, 
a 
characteristic 

spiked ‘do running down the 

center of the head. The shock 
factor of these looks alone drew 
attention from the mainstream, 
and in turn, punk became a bigger 
and bigger phenomenon, their 
music and anarchist ideologies 
thrust into the public eye.

At the same time, musicians 

like 
Patti 
Smith 
and 
The 

Ramones began the same path in 
America, separating themselves 
from 
both 
the 
mainstream 

and hippie counterculture to 
begin something raw, new and 
profoundly powerful. New York 
City punk was less gaudy than 
London’s initial movement, but 
still presented itself as a legitimate 
social culture with a look to match. 
Though NYC is often credited 
with the beginnings of American 
punk culture, Los Angeles had 
its own burgeoning punk scene, 
and eventually, the movement 
spread to most major cities. The 
leather and distress of English 
punk made its way into American 
punk culture, some taking an 
almost identical approach, but 
many people in the States chose 
to bypass the extreme hairstyles 
of punk fame and instead opt for 
a messy, slept-in look, long and 
unkempt as if to say: “I don’t care 
what I look like, what matters is 
the message.”

By the late ’70s, punk was a 

massive force in youth culture 
and counterculture as a whole, 
and the appropriation of its 
characteristic looks began to 
flow into the mainstream. Bands 
like the New York Dolls started 
subgroups like glam punk, which 
took the basic elements of punk 
and brought them to a draggy, 
over-the-top level, sporting high-
femme makeup and big teased 
hair in an effort to distinguish 
themselves. Art punk formed 
in bands like Television, who 
grew out of drug culture and 
into almost avant-garde music 
and performance. In addition to 
glam and art, the punk movement 
started to fracture into dozens of 
these smaller subcultures with 
their own looks and ideologies. 
But there was still a distinct 
emphasis on the purposeful self-

“othering” of punks through their 
choices in clothes and hairstyles, 
something that lives on today 
in these shattered pieces of the 
original movement.

As the ’80s came and went, 

punk grew into its own, and so 
did the movements it inspired, 
like hardcore and eventually post-
punk. Many of the bands who 
transitioned into the latter two 
categories even began as part of 
the original punk rock movement, 
but then separated themselves as 
the subculture grew and changed. 
The looks that accompanied both 
were noticeably less extreme 
and shocking than many of early 
punk’s 
trademarks, 
choosing 

comfort and the ability to mosh 
over the spiked extravagance 
and upkeep of their predecessors. 
Their hairstyles followed this, 
either settling into the Patti 
Smith mold of languid disinterest 
and shag or completely buzzing 
it off in order to follow the raw 
intensity of their music. This 
continued into the next two 
decades, as post-punk, grunge 
and emo rock carried the spirit 
of the original punk movement 
into the future and with it the 
style which separated them from 
the mainstream. The remnants of 
punk are everywhere, in music, 
culture and of course, in hair.

Now, extreme colors and cuts 

are more common than in the ’70s, 
but the value of unique styling has 
stayed the same — ultimately, 
hair is an easy way to separate 
yourself from the masses, to 
express culture through your 
appearance and show it for all to 
see. It is clear how the hairstyles 
of each facet of punk matched 
and enhanced their mission as 
subcultures, drawing attention to 
themselves in an effort to subvert 
and in turn highlight the reality 
of social norms. The superficial 
shock factor of a mohawk is 
obvious, but the history behind 
it may not be. At the end of the 
day, it’s just hair, after all, but 
its power to shift perception is a 
foundational aspect of the punk 
movement’s history, influence and 
proliferation into the present day. 

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
b-side
Thursday, September 27, 2018 — 3B

CAPITAL RECORDS

Recently, 
a 
longstanding, 

unspoken personal bond was 
finally broken: Justin Bieber and I 
no longer have the same hairstyle. 
With news of his engagement to 
Hailey Baldwin came paparazzi 
photos of him, hair wild and 
shaggy, sporting a mustache that 
screams “I’ve been listening to a lot 
of Post Malone lately and doing just 
fine.” 

I was a prepubescent boy 

(i.e., dumb) during the “Baby” 
heyday, so naturally I harbored 
a completely irrational yet deep-
seated aversion of the singing, 
dancing Canadian. Irony is a fickle 
mistress though, as one can scroll 
down to the murkiest depths 
of my Facebook profile and see 
tagged photos from the early 2010s 
featuring a tinier me sporting the 
same side-swooped bowl cut.

Like clockwork, if Bieber ever 

changed his hair, I would somehow 
end up with the same haircut – 
albeit a couple months behind – 
despite laughing at all the “memes” 
mocking his androgynous looks 
or imploring God to give us back 
Michael Jackson if we offered 
Bieber up in sacrifice. Slightly 
shorter bowl cut Bieber? Been 

there. Shaved on the sides, styled 
long on the top Bieber? Done that. 
I may have lost him for a bit in 2017 
when he both shaved his head and 
went back to the bowl, the look 
closest associated with his rise to 
superstardom. But when I decided 
to dye my hair platinum blond, our 
souls were briefly realigned and 
everything was alright.

The 
platinum 
blond 
trend 

in men’s hair has increased 
exponentially over the past few 
years. This summer, Zayn Malik 
went blond, Pete Davidson went 
blond, Charlie Puth went blond; 
even a handful of Mexican soccer 
players went blond for a World 
Cup match. Through its adoption 
by many of the best-groomed men 
in Hollywood and the fashion 
industry, the trend’s en vogue 
status has become solidified. The 
fact GQ articles detailing some 
facet of the platinum blond dyeing 
process keep cropping up once a 
year speaks to its lasting power.

It’s easy to dismiss platinum 

blond as a fad, and that a decade 
from now we’ll be looking at it with 
the same disdain we now have 
for frosted tips. On the notion of 
a fad, one must first understand 
frosted tips were far from one; the 
reignited boy band craze of the 
late ’90s and early ’00s solidified 
their cultural impact, and they 

were a commonplace hairstyle 
for many young guys over damn 
near a decade. Fads are lucky to 
stay around for a year, as pogs 
(milk caps) and fidget spinners are 
fated to be relegated to the dustbin 
of history. Trends like frosted 
tips stick around, becoming a 
cornerstone of their era’s defining 
aesthetic. We’re quick to associate 
nostalgia with fashion as it was 
something in which everyone 
technically participated. Everyone 
wanted 
to 
look 
like 
Justin 

Timberlake.

The thing is, not everyone wants 

to look like Malik or Davidson or 
Puth. Platinum blond hair seems 
to have caught on only among the 
upper echelon of men. If I walk 
around campus on an average day, 
I will only see two or three other 
boys with hair like mine, out of 
some thousands.

Whereas 
dyed 
hair 
is 
so 

ubiquitous among women, it still 
continues to be a taboo for some 
men. Hair dye has been around 
for centuries, with the earliest 
and most prominent adopters 
being the ancient Egyptians, and 
blond hair has its own history, too. 
Roman prostitutes were required 
to have yellow hair to indicate their 
professions, with some bathing 
their hair in a solution made 
from the ashes of burnt plants to 

ROBERT MANSUETTI

Daily Arts Writer

Mohawks. Buzz cuts. Tangled, 

teased, dyed, chopped, braided, 
long, short and any every color 
in the book. What do you think 
of when you think of punk hair? 
This is a broad question, but 
holds more meaning than it may 
seem. From its beginnings in the 
’70s in England and the United 
States, the punk movement has 
always been closely related to its 
members’ presentations in fashion 
and grooming, specifically hair. 
Though punk has split into many 
subgroups since its inception, the 
general consensus remains the 
same: To be punk is to subvert 
the status quo in every manner, 
especially in the way you look to 
others.

The separation between the 

mainstream and counterculture 
that functions as a foundation 
for the movement was initially 
and still is based heavily in 
presentation. This is something 
that has splintered into different 
subcultures in the past five 
decades but is still what many 
people imagine when they think 
of punk conceptually. In terms of 
appearance, punk hairstyles have 
become the primary marker for 
the masses to identify rebellion 
and subversion in public, an 
opportunity for members of the 
movement to “other” themselves 
in a way that is easy to reverse and 
change at a moment’s notice.

Punk and its offshoots have 

often gotten a bad rep in the 
media and society at large, in 
response to not only the ideology 
of their movements but also 
their 
appearance. 
Extremist 

submovements, like the white 

nationalist skinheads, have often 
overshadowed 
the 
meaning 

behind punk style from the 
beginning, and color the media’s 
portrayal of the culture as a whole 
with negativity. But in reality, 
punk and its attachment to style 
began as a way to subvert the 
expectations of mid-70s England, 
which was under the heavy veil 
of social pressure to conform as 
the post-war world erupted into 
turmoil once again.

Young people who resisted the 

norms of their world found solace 
in music from groups like the 
Sex Pistols and created a cultural 
movement that shifted the “free 
love” counterculture of hippies to 
a harsher, more direct response 
to political and social discord. In 
the late ’60s, the earliest members 
of the punk movement shaved 
their heads in protest of the long-
haired freedom of the Aquarian 

WIKIMEDIA COMMONS

CLARA SCOTT
Daily Arts Writer

achieve that color without need 
of a wig. Later in the 1700s, the 
color became fashionable and 
Italian women would sit out in the 
sun with their locks submerged 
in a corrosive solution for that 
luxurious blond color. French 
chemist Eugene Schueller created 
the first synthetic hair dye for 
commercial purpose in 1907, a 
product that would later become 
known as L’Oréal, and it quickly 
became easier than ever for 
women to change their hair color.

The 
list 
of 
iconic 
female 

blondes could span hundreds — 
Marilyn Monroe, Farrah Fawcett, 
Madonna, to name a few. But 
one would be hard-pressed to 
find a single male celebrity with 
platinum blond hair worthy of 
the moniker “icon.” This is partly 
because 
platinum 
blond 
hair 

on men, as previously stated, 
is a trend very localized in the 
2010s. Most celebrities who dye 
their hair, like Bieber, either just 
recently dyed it and have not put in 
the time necessary for icon status, 
or gave up maintaining the color 
after a year or so and switched to 
a new headline and eye-catching 
hairstyle.

There is, however, a young 

man on the verge of becoming 
synonymous with platinum blond 
hair. In 2017, Troye Sivan, a South 
African and Australian singer-
songwriter 
with 
unassuming 

mousy brown hair fresh off the 
success of his debut album Blue 
Neighborhood, posted on Twitter 
and Instagram pictures of his 
apparent blond curls. His fans 
were initially skeptical, though 
Troye made sure they knew it 
was no fake, no wig. Aside from 
this dramatic change and a few 
features, Sivan did not have a 
world-stopping 2017.

But this year, Troye is on top of 

the pop world. It’s been less than 
a month since his chart-topping 
sophomore 
effort 
Bloom 
was 

released, featuring the infectious 
anthem “My My My!” and the 
Ariana 
Grande 
collaboration 

“Dance To This.” His explosive 
popularity came seemingly out 
of nowhere, but it’s pretty easy to 
understand. What makes Sivan 
so different from his other male 
contemporaries? And what makes 
his hair such a statement? The 
answer lies in his unapologetic 
acceptance of his queerness.

As you may have assumed, the 

reason dyeing your hair is still 
taboo among most of the male 

population is it goes against all 
norms of traditional masculinity. 
For lack of a better word, going 
to a hairdresser and getting your 
hair dyed platinum blond could be 
seen as “gay.” In fact, while doing 
research for this article, I stumbled 
across a finely-worded Yahoo 
Answers query asking if it “would 
be gay if (he) dyed (his) hair 
platinum blonde” (he specifically 
requested “girls opinions on the 
matter” and declined requests for 
comment as he is both anonymous 
and asked about nine years ago). 
While the most mean-spirited of 
bullies would call another guy a 
“sissy” or “faggot” for dyeing their 
hair, their vitriol isn’t misdirected; 
most guys who are inclined to 
change the color of their hair are of 
a queer sexuality.

And why is that? While I am 

by no means qualified to speak 
for all non-heterosexual men, my 
hair has come to mean a lot to me. 
For years, I had sported haircuts 
so uninteresting they would fit 
snugly into any given fraternity 
composite. Once I began to come 
to terms that maybe there’s 
more to life than girlfriends, that 
guys can be pretty too, I became 
increasingly 
frustrated 
with 

my outward appearance. Easy 
to disappear into a crowd, the 
straight, 
brown-haired 
white 

freshman I appeared to be was at 
odds with the interior.

In all my social anxiety, I 

believed people looked at me and 
saw the most uninteresting man in 
the world. I wanted so desperately 
for them to not write me off as 
boring and shy but them to see me 
and instantly want to befriend the 
silly lovable idiot I am underneath. 
So a seed was planted and my plan 
was to dye my hair something 
radical Thanksgiving Break. I 
settled on platinum blond after 
scrolling through an unhealthy 
amount of Lucky Blue Smith 
pictures. That plan was derailed by 
the family and friends occupying 
my house for the holiday, so it was 
pushed back to December. I would 
bleach my hair over Christmas, 
only tell a very select few about 
it and surprise everyone else in 
person. One stinging three-hour 
visit to my mom’s favorite salon 
later and the plan was underway.

It’s now sophomore year, and 

has dyeing my hair platinum 
blond changed my life for the 
better? Well, yes and no. It hasn’t 
transformed me into some cherub 
of an extrovert with countless 

friends under his wings, but I do 
think it represents a more authentic 
version of myself. It represents 
someone who finally came to terms 
with their worst hidden struggles 
and no longer hates themselves 
for who they are. I’d be lying if I 
said the random compliments I 
get in public bathrooms or fast-
food restaurants don’t give me the 
slightest bit of confidence to keep 
going on particularly hard days. I 
have varied my hair color slightly, 
dabbling in pink and lavender, but 
platinum blond is my new home 
that always calls me back. I don’t 
even remember what I look like 
with brown hair.

Hair is one of the most 

important 
forms 
of 
personal 

expression, which is one of the 
most crucial things to the identity 
of any queer person, Troye Sivan 
and myself included. While he and 
I differ on the personal meaning of 
our platinum blond hair — Troye 
has always been public about 
his identity way before the hair 
change, while my acceptance of 
my identity coincided with the 
hair change (as my friends have 
chided me about, in a very Ralph 
Wiggum-type way) — both of us 
use hair as a means to love and 
accept who we are.

Troye Sivan’s hair has become 

very central to his brand in an 
amazing, celebratory kind of way. 
The album cover for Bloom is a 
black-and-white image of Sivan 
with his back facing the camera; 
the most prominent feature from 
that angle is his hair. The video for 
“My My My!” employs the same 
technique. As Troye dances in 
front of these empty, dimly-lit and 
monochromatic backdrops, and 
the platinum blond shines from 
every angle. It could be reductive 
to say all of one’s personality could 
be distilled into their hair, but 
when we choose what color we 
want our hair to be, it’s safe to say 
it’s a very sentimental personal 
trademark of ours.

While hair has the utmost 

importance to queer people of all 
genders, it particularly stands out 
among queer men because it swims 
in a heterosexual sea of blasé male 
hair. I like to think people look at 
me (and boy, do I get looks now, 
good and bad) and see the person 
I want to present to the world, the 
self becomes more and more true 
every day. I hate to call my old hair 
boring, because I’ve seen beautiful 
brown hair, but I’ll be damned if 
blonds don’t have more fun.

Spikes, Studs & Subversion: the 
political resistance in punk hair

Troye Sivan is blowing up, 
so are blond bombshells

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