The Mohawk is the number one haircut I regret never attempting. It’s badass and rebellious, and there are a lot of sweet Mohawk variations. You can spike it up high or cut it short and keep it close to the scalp. You can dye it different colors. It’s a very versatile accessory that always manages to convey the message: “My job doesn’t offer benefits.” It’s an anti-authoritarian ‘do. I’ve got a lot of respect for the Mohawk.
This is not to be confused with the Fauxhawk, a recent development that takes the most punk rock hairstyle and turns it into the haircut of a lacrosse player named Hunter. If a friend of mine ever showed up to my home with a Fauxhawk, I would cut it off while he was yammering on and on about how UFC is the fastest growing sport in America.
My hair tufts up in the middle part (where there is hair). It makes me look like a baby duck. I call it the “No-hawk.”
Psych. A white guy with dreadlocks is an abomination against God’s will. Like genocide. Or a dog in a sweater. But more like a dog in a sweater.
My hair is generally all business, except for one time in high school when I (ill-advisedly) tried to grow an afro. Then it was all party. The mullet, as we all know, splits the difference. Half business. Half party. When someone sees a mullet from the front, he’s probably like: “This fella certainly has an MBA.” But from the back or side it’s like: “Waaaaait a minute! You probably spent the morning day-drinking in your confederate flag boxer shorts. You’re a wild card!”
I’ve always been very consistent. I’m all Harvey Dent pre facial-disfiguration. I need a little Two Face action in my life. If I had a mullet, I’d walk around flipping a coin to decide how I’d play out my day. On one side of the coin, there’d be a picture of Bill Gates (business), and on the other side, there’d be the image of Kid Rock (party). Am I going to volunteer at an orphanage or go on a three-day meth binge? It’s a 50/50 chance with a mullet.
Long Hair With a Mustache
I call this haircut “The Journey” because it makes you look like a member of the band Journey. It’s a great throwback look. I’ve always wanted to appear more natural playing a guitar solo while leaning against another guitarist, and I think this hairstyle would really do the trick.
Maybe, though, this cut should be named “The Roadie.” One thing I like about bands that have stayed together for a period of decades is that their fashion is getting a little more conservative (less super tight jeans, crisper haircuts), but their roadies have looked the same forever. Long, scraggly manes. Denim vests. Tattoos. If I built a time machine, I would bring a roadie with me whenever I traveled. That way, people would always assume he was just a roadie from their time.
Germany, 1938. “Who’s that guy carrying the violin case in the denim vest?” “Oh, he must be one of Wagner’s roadies.” Then, boom. Hitler’s dead.
Racing Stripes or Dollar Signs
The time for shaving hilarious designs into your hair has long since passed. It went away with Vanilla Ice and the end of Deion Sanders’s baseball career. But wow, was that a fun trend while it lasted. My parents would never let me get a dumb/ awesome hair cut, when I was a kid, and I’d like to make up for lost time. Technically, I still have enough hair to do it, but I think people would make fun of me. If I were ever a millionaire, though, this is the hairstyle I would try and bring back. People would see me and be in awe of my high top fade with the word “Fresh” etched into the back.
At this point, the only creative haircut I’m eligible for is the ponytail, but a ponytail on a guy with thinning hair just screams: “I know karate, and I am very eager to use it.” So from here on out, it’s a life of boring hair. I guess I’ll just have to display my unique personality through my collection of holiday-specific socks.
Psych. I’d rather have dreadlocks.