Just like LL Cool J once demanded, the awkward kids have too: don’t call this a comeback. They’ve been here for years.
The revenge of the nerds was settled long ago, refreshed annually at various high school reunions and from a recurring sartorial standpoint, on the runway too. The bobby socks, knit polos, strange shoes and flooded pants that make frequent appearances on September and February catwalks don’t come from the same table as the cool kids — rather, they stem from the very wardrobe of those who once got teased for how they dressed.
This Spring season the clothes varied in direction; it was more about capturing decades and their different nuances, less about a group of people and their cafeteria hierarchy. But the hair, however, was a different story. The hair was about a specific girl, and you either knew her or you were her. This girl was awkward.
Always running late. Always flustered, in a rush, loose papers flying out of her backpack as though she didn’t have a binder…or if she did, she probably left it in the library. She was funny, smart, Diane Keaton-neurotic. She hung with the wallflowers and was shy. She had a nervous habit of tucking her hair behind her ears, but as with her binder or her permission slip, she always left chunky pieces of hair in front of each ear as though she’d forgotten to grab those as well. She probably had.
How hard was it to do an accidental-sideburn double check? Why couldn’t she pull her all hair back like the other girls? Wasn’t she annoyed by the errant strands of the elfen appendages that stuck out from her head? Apparently not — the models at Creatures of the Wind, Coach, Prada and Miu Miu looked like they’d whack anyone’s hand away that went in for the assist in a deliberate defense against the interruption of styled chaos.
Buy why? Why wouldn’t she just fix. Her. Hair?
Because she was awkward?
That, or she knew all along it looked cool.