Give Me a Head with

by Laura Spitznogle

I want it long, straight,
curly, fuzzy
Snaggy, shaggy,
ratty, matty
Oily, greasy, fleecy
Shining, gleaming,
streaming
Flaxen, waxen
Knotted,
polka-dotted
Twisted, beaded, braided
Powdered, flowered,
and confettied
Bangled, tangled,
spangled,
and
spaghettied!

—From Hair: The American Tribal
Love-Rock Musical.
Lyrics by James Rado and
Gerome Ragni, 1967.

What do Paula Jones, Strom Thurmond, and Bill Gates have in common? Weird hair.

Steven Zdatny, an associate professor of history at WVU, has staked his claim to fame-poking fun at public figures with funky hair. Not that he ever intended to.

It all started innocently enough, this thing with Zdatny and hair. He lived in France for a year as a Fulbright Scholar. Everywhere he looked there was hair, growing, flowing, glowing. When he completed his research, he published a book called The Politics of Survival: Artisans in Twentieth-Century France. In one chapter, Zdatny discussed hairdressers.

There was, of course, a logical rationale for doing so. "I wanted to include hairdressers because they were among artisans who were relatively well organized and relatively articulate. They had a lot of trade union papers and a lot of professional journals," Zdatny says.

His research of hairdressers led Zdatny to write an article about hairstyles in the 18th century for Fashion Theory, an academic journal published in France.

Here's where Paula Jones enters the picture. When the Arkansas woman decided to sue the President of the United States, citing sexual harassment, she decided to change her image a bit to enhance her credibility. And that she did. She had her curls straightened and changed their color. She toned down her makeup, and bought a new uptown wardrobe. She went from country chick to city slick. Observing this startling transformation, the media decided to report on it.

So, what do you do if you're a reporter who wants to write about Paula Jones's hair? Besides researching its evolution, you find an expert to give you a quote on the subject. "You name professor so-and-so from the university of so-and-so, and it gives credibility to your story," says Zdatny.

The first phone call Zdatny received about Jones's new coiffure came from Robin Givhan at the Washington Post. He obliged, telling Givhan that the new Jones would be "less an object of derision." The makeover, he said, "may do no good in Little Rock, but it's good for Washington."

The Associated Press picked up Givhan's story—which also quoted a famous makeup artist, several celebrity hairstys, and Jones's California-based media advisor—and it ran nationwide. Zdatny then found himself giving interviews to such newspapers as the San Francisco Examiner and radio stations from Tampa to Sacramento.

Zdatny gave the reporters such insights as: "It's amazing how quickly people recognize [social] class in hair. There's a haircut that belongs on Wall Street and a different one that belongs in Hollywood." They must have liked the way he talked, because he was called again. And again. And then the focus of the questions changed a little.

Reporters started asking Zdatny about former White House intern Monica Lewinsky's tresses, and then about the reddish locks sported by 95-year-old Senator Strom Thurmond of South Carolina. A writer from Fortune magazine asked him to comment on the appearance of the richest man in the nation-mop-haired Microsoft magnate Bill Gates.

Zdatny says he doesn't mind all the attention, though he is disappointed that not many reporters are interested in the more substantial aspects of his research.

His mother, living in Florida, doesn't mind the attention, either. She loves getting calls from relatives and friends across the country remarking on her son's newfound fame.

Bad Hair Day?

Steven Zdatny, an historian whose research led to his becoming the media's expert on the politics of hairstyles during the Paula Jones scandal, shared these thoughts about the hairstyles of several WVU students who were photographed outside the Mountainlair on a warm day this spring.

The minima look. Well-done, so the coif will not distract attention from the pearly glint of the teeth.

Must be a literature major. Notice how an immaculately oiled and carefully combed top conducts a tense dialogue with the insouciant growth on the chin and cheeks.

In January her hair was bleached white. She is practicing for Paris.

Is this man really from Jamaica? Queens, maybe.

We call this one "The Ayatollah's Son is a Frat Boy."

Poster boy for the 1990s: cute haircut, sideburns, fashionable stubble finished in a casually incomplete goatee, double tee-shirt, looking into the future—insurance, no doubt.

The hairstyle for the true mountain man. When all those with sissy haircuts are dead, he'll still survive on berries, acorns, and possum soup.

Get the camouflage. How you gonna keep that subtle frosting in your hair when you're fighting in the jungle?

Hairstyles for the Ages

Gleaned from yellowing pages of the Monticola, these images of WVU students remind us that although the years, decades, and centuries may pass, hair is with us always.

1903, J.J. Abersold. The archetypal Alfalfa.