Yesterday marked my first day working for a salon in Dallas. To commemorate this occasion the Hollywood Foreign Press was so kind as to host the 69th Annual Golden Globes this past weekend. As a cinephile I was on the edge of my couch patiently awaiting the results of the award ceremony but another reason kept my eyes glued to the screen…the hair do's and sadly, the hair don'ts.
I usually just gab about the dresses and bitch about the results but this year I tried to train my eyes to any trends that crept up on the carpet and waited to be blown away by some fabulous bouffants.
There was the usual uninspired pulled back ponytail. Thank you Amanda Peet for deciding to join us last minute. I guess not being on screen, silver or otherwise, for the past few years allows you the luxury of just rolling out of bed.
And of course there would be a few follicle faux pas'. Kelly Osborn takes the grand prize with her dowdy dye job. I guess the Fashion Police only gives tickets for wardrobe wash ups and not hair and make up. I hope Joan Rivers gives you an ear full when you go to work next. Many would throw in Tilda Swinton into this group of wayward women, but I must protest. Style is best when it is owned by the individual and no one owns their style better than Tilda. She exploits her look in the most fabulous ways, and for someone who consistently defies convention, what did you expect. Kudos, you Rainbow Sheep!
Finally, there are the women who take your breath away and no one had me gasping for more air then Reese Witherspoon! The effortless and ease of her hair complimented her entire look, nay, almost outshone her entire look. She could have been wrapped in doggie pee pee pads and even the judges of Project Runway wouldn't have noticed. Her hair was that gorgeous.
And not so finally, a special mention must be made to Jessica Lange, who provided the head-scratcher of the evening. It wasn't that her hair looked bad, it was the fact that it belonged on a women twice her age…if not thrice her age.
I wish Hollywood would learn the art of aging gracefully. Every time a celebrity tries to curb the clock, they end up cracking it, revealing more flaws then they originally had. And please, god, someone grab a table cloth and cover that woman's back. I'm going to have nightmare's of unflattering backless gowns trying to steal my baby.