One head four ways - wigging out!

Who are we? Are we defined by our hair, our makeup, our clothes? Of course, the answer is that we are defined by the intangibles, but I heard this from a woman I style-eyed recently: Nobody ever crossed the street to meet a personality. Our looks and presentation form first impressions and our personalities make or break them.

This post is a continuation of my investigation into women's identity and style, very a la Cindy Sherman, the New York conceptual photographic artist. The first post I did in this project was called "One face six ways."

The Investigation

How do our perceptions of people change with different kinds of hair?

How much does hair affect our behaviour? 

For this study I applied heavy makeup and tried on three wigs: Ginger, Annette, and Tina. 

NATURAL (below): Wigless is my natural state but I wasn't used to this much makeup. The makeup served as a cover so I felt freer to do things outside my usual self and it exaggerated the transformations.

GINGER (below): I felt vixen-like but overwhelmed by the hair! I dressed as Ginger for two parties about 12 years ago and really disliked the attention. I was the bone to a bunch of hungry dogs! I rarely spoke all night - I was in shock. 

 

ANNETTE (below): (The cone is misshapen after 14 years in a drawer!) This woman is from the sixties, say, Elizabeth Taylor Cleopatra. In kitten heels I walk a poodle in a diamond collar, go to a party and do the twist, and wake up in the morning with smeared makeup, stinking of booze, ready for a fresh martini and a gherkin.

TINA (below): This is the wig I have always disliked most and it is the one that made me feel like I lost myself the most. I don't really see myself here and yet I enjoyed the discovery process of the transformation.

These are closeup summary shots of the personalities that emerged in these wigs with this makeup.

In every wig I tried on, I had a sense of being someone else. Considering that a wig is really just an extension of a hat, our cultural interpretations of hair elevate the wig far beyond mere body adornment. For example, when I wore Ginger my personality was unable to live up to the expectations that the hairstyle invoked. Even hair colour has deeply ingrained stereotypes: ditzy blond, fiery redhead, white- or black-haired crone.

I once saw a movie in which women cancer survivors attending a conference joyously doffed their wigs; they threw them exultantly into the air as a symbol of empowerment and liberation. At the same time, I have seen women with deliberately shorn heads treated with derision or bewilderment. Throughout history, the cutting of a woman's hair has been punishment for a lapse in morality. Even biblical Sampson lost his strength when his hair was shorn.

I'm wondering, what's your relationship with your hair? Do you change your hair style to reflect or even evoke big changes in your life? Do you wear wigs? If so, do you mix them up depending on your mood or outfit? Do you wish wigs were more commonly worn? Do you think that hair colour affects how people perceive us? How does hair length affect perception? I'm just curious.

Have a good weekend everyone!