Hairy Styles: Joe Dirt Edition
I wish this were about the band One Direction but it’s actually about avoiding showers for a solid week.
Hair is not unlike an avocado (which, as you know, is not unlike a man ready to commit) chiefly because like the fruit, it is only good for a fraction of a second (volume! texture! waves!) before it turns against you. Say you’re two days past a blowout and you’ve got that leftover film of hairspray creating a halo around your head and just enough volume to feel Texan, hold the cowboy boots. You could shower. In fact you probably should shower but time is tight and your hair — while starting to absorb odors more astutely than a pregnant woman does — looks awesome. But if you miscalculate by even just an hour, grease lightening could hit you faster than…er…lightening and there you are, stuck at a bar with smelly ass, oily hair.
Enter the greatest gift of modern science: dry shampoo. The supposition is that with it, you can successfully extend your number of good hair days without actually having to wash or manipulate it via hat/braid/ponytail/kangaroo pouch. But at last, that is just merely a supposition, which is precisely why Team Man Repeller forewent a week of hygiene in the name of a social experiment that would refute or support the notion the idea that dry shampoo, like your best friend, is always there for you during — and after — a rough patch. Ready, Freddy?
Day 1: I have nothing to report because I did my due diligence to society this AM and took a shower. After a quick blast with the blow dryer to ensure maximum dryness for a week of no-washing, I was on my merry way, flipping my hair like a happy fool.
Day 2: Day 2 of not washing my hair meant day 1 of using dry shampoo. My application was preemptive as I didn’t actually need it yet, but it gave me a ton of volume so I was like, bonus pointtt.
Day 3: Wednesday involved a lot of me shit talking about how my hair still felt weirdly clean (thank you dry shamps!), and how it looked even better by day 3, and how much I looked like Connie Britton, yadda yadda. Just a whole lot of flappin gums and more flippin hair. Oh Amelia, if only Susan Miller had predicted what was to come…
Day 4: This was not a fun day. I probably should have tapped out but my competitive edge got the best of me and I powered through, hair down, and reapplied the spray-in powder at least three times throughout the day. Weirdly, though, I met up with friends in a public and well-lit establishment and no one gave me side-eyed please-go-gome-you’re-gross-looks.
Day 5: Hubris got the best me. I should have thrown in the towel or rather, washed my hair and then used the towel, but I soldiered through by way of a very high pony tail. Leandra and Charlotte told me that hair up was breaking the rules and therefore I “lost,” so I was just like, screw you guys, I’m going home.
Status: Last place. Product used: Klorane Oat Extract Dry Shampoo
Day 1: Well la di da, I am the fucking starlet of a Pantene Pro-V commercial. I can barely tilt my head without experiencing my hair release the sweet, sweet melodic chants of that one Taylor Swift song that has been universally accepted as awesome. Which one, you ask? I can’t answer. But it does exist — they do exist! Also, I smell really nice which is a rarity but one I welcome with open arms.
Day 2: So, I did this weird thing this morning where I said to myself, “Self, why don’t you use your gym membership just one time before 2013’s finale?” Before I could answer and allow an internal, unilateral quarrel to materialize, there I was, feet moving quickly — right then left, right then left on a treadmill. When I get off I smelled a little bit like the backseat of a taxi right after its driver’s tango with Indian cuisine. I was feeling like a pimp though, so I just brushed my shoulder off (aka slabbed deodorant on) and off to work I went. My hair looked fine. It still looks fine. No dry shampoo yet. I am a woman, hear me roar.
Day 3: So this is what sweaty, stale hair smells like! Very nice. Though I’m fashioning an olfactory hazard around my head, I declare with conviction that it still don’t look too shabby. If you don’t believe me, I invite you to take a look at slideshow image #2, where I am wearing a black sweater and authentic smile. It’s not the cleanest, but it’s not the dirtiest. Avocado status. I used only three sprays of dry shampoo today.
Day 4: I can’t do this. Where yesterday I felt like the queen of Sheba, today I am pretty sure I look like I showered in olive oil last night. Is it even possible that the dry shampoo made my hair dirtier? This morning, I sprayed that shit into every crevice in my head and yet, I look like a slice of pizza. Not to mention I now smell like the three day old version of the backseat of that cab — ironically everywhere but on my head. Because my dry shampoo smells so damn good. I know the rules stated that we were not to wash our hair but guess what? I went the full nine yards and haven’t showered either. We can still be friends, right?
Day 5: Haha. Ho. Ho. Ho. Guess what? I am the hugest fucking moron in the history of dumb people. Why? Because I wasn’t using dry shampoo! I was using styling powder! And while sure, it worked famously as powder, (I will say, I did notice that my hair was cooperating much more like a highly obedient golden retriever and less like a tap dancer who has gone rogue) my hair was looking much more like a used and reused, perpetually damp mop than it should have.
How did I find out? Because I was on a shoot last night and the hair stylist who was forced to manipulate my head pointed out that I’d been using a styling product not a dry shampoo. Like a fairy sent from the gods of flocculence, she spray, spray, sprayed and I’m happy to report, as evidenced by the photos in slide 9 and 10, I look more French than a freakin’ croissant, can I get a oui oui?
I’m not going to bore you with the day-to-day maintenance of my dry-ass hair. Texturally it closely mirrors a wire-haired dachshund who frolicked through some humid beach sand and then brushed itself with a brillo pad. Okay, maybe I’m being a bit dramatic here, but it truly takes a lot to grease up my hair. Not washing my hair for a week is my norm and typically I’ll cake some Moroccan oil onto it and add a bit of curl in an attempt to make it dirty faster.
This week I refrained from using product and by mid-week my hair seemed inexplicably dryer. So, I went to the gym and sweat it out, but alas the sweat added volume but also produced a stench. Amelia kindly suggested I jump on the dry shampoo bandwagon and use TRESemme Fresh Start which kept me going for 3 more days! That’s right, I didn’t wash my hair for 8 days! It was a Hanukkah miracle! Can I get a sassy emoji girl hand in the air?