Relentless Passion

Growing up in a small town in northern Ontario in the 70's, definitely had its ups and downs.

The youngest of 3 kids, my family had immigrated to Canada just 10 years before I was born. They were very European in their ways of doing things,as well as their sense of style. My Mother was constantly made fun of because in those days in northern Ontario, women didn't wear pants, only dresses and skirts. My Mother, hailing from Munich, Germany couldn't understand why women hadn't progressed to the point that they could wear pants in her new found home. Therefore she deliberately wore slacks, I think, just to prove a point.

It was this European fashion sense that encompassed me while I was a child. Growing up with TV shows like Happy Days just added gas to the ever growing fashion fire that was burning inside of me. I thought I was Fonzie. With my hair freshly cut from my sister (who wasn't a stylist, but rather an artist) my hair, parted in the middle, and "feathered" on the sides. I thought I was it. With my new "pleather" jacket my Opa had bought me, as well as my designer jeans, I knew the girls in my grade 4 class would swoon.

The girls did swoon. Just how I had hoped. The boys, on the other hand, well, let's just say, they were less than impressed. So much, in fact, that they ganged up on me in a group of about 8. They held me down on the ground and began to pull out magnifying glasses. At first I didn't understand. It was a hot sunny day in June. The boys proceeded to burn holes into the jacket my Opa had given me. Little did they know he had passed away a month earlier. Another boy grabbed a pine cone, dragging it through my hair until all of the pine pitch had glued up my strands to the point that washing it just wouldn't be enough. The last straw for me was when one of the boys went into my right side back pocket and grabbed my precious black comb.(just like Fonzie, I had one for every day of the week.) The boy, who was the instigator of all of this, pulled out a spray paint can. He sprayed my comb with a red metallic colour, which coated the comb to the point it was destroyed.

A new boy in our school stood nearby, watching the whole ordeal. He was a boy who had started school just a couple weeks before. I often said hi to him when no one else did. His name was Brett and he was black (and at least twice the size of anyone else in our class). In fact, he was the only black kid in the whole town. Probably in at least 3 towns. In those days things were different. Where I grew up, everyone was white. To me, he was just a quiet kid who I wanted to be friends with.

Without warning I heard a loud yell. "Ahhhh! Get off of him! Leave him alone!" As I looked up, I saw Brett, flinging the bodies off of me like rag dolls. I was filled with an overwhelming sense of mixed emotion. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So I did both. With twigs sticking out of my nose where the kids had shoved them when they had me pinned down, I stood up, brushed myself off, and helped my new best friend fight off the hoodlums.

The next week I started Karate, and no one ever "physically" hurt me again.

As I continued to grow up, the ideas and fascinations I had with image and fashion grew as well. For the most part, I kept it well hidden, just keeping up with the current hairstyles of that time. Simon Le Bon, Corey Hart etc., etc.

In high school I was known for my hair (how ironic, since I have none now). I went from having the first mullett in Muskoka, to growing it all out, a la River Phoenix. I still had lots of girlfriends. (I had learned that from Fonzie.) But it was one day after a soccer game in the changeroom when one of my team mates asked out loud "How come Greg has all these girlfriends?" When another team mate responded without hesitation, "That's easy, it's because he gives them beauty secrets!" Everyone started laughing. Even me. But I wasn't laughing inside.

How could I, almost a black belt in Karate, the captain of the soccer team, be interested in beauty and image? What was happening to me? This passion I had hidden inside of me for all these years was trying to make itself more known.

I had to stop it. You have to understand that a boy growing up in the small town country, who excelled in sports and girls could not succumb to becoming an image maker. The thought of me as a hairdresser in a beauty salon brought shivers up my back. So why did it seem so right?

As I finished high school I had to think about what I was going to do when I left. Having loved martial arts, as well as justice, I thought the most practical thing to do was become a police officer. I remembered being in kindergarten and telling my parents over and over again that I wanted to be a police officer. But that was before Fonzie was on the scene.

After my first semester in police college, I quickly realized that the police life was not for me. It was the job as a part time model, to help me pay for police school that seemed to captivate me. I thought to myself, well, I could do this for awhile, then perhaps become a Booker or image consultant. So, my focus in school went from police foundations to image consultant. It was there in those courses when we all started dealing with hair and face shapes, that I felt my name being called.

After graduating from college with an image consulting diploma, I knew I had some direction. My fascinations with art and architecture, and image all fell into place when I walked through the doors of Vidal Sassoon Salon and Academy. This was the pinnacle of self realization. This was the moment I let go of what I thought society wanted me to become. This was the moment I realized what I wanted to become.

Let this be a reminder to anyone, young or old who has not yet realized their passion in life. We all have one. The hard thing is sometimes finding it. If you search really hard it will come to the surface. Sometimes, in my case, it was right before my eyes the whole time. I just didn't want to accept it. To those of you out there who feel like there is something missing, I desperately ask you to find it. Find what that something is, and do it with all your heart. Find your passion. Find your love.

Sign Of The Times

When we look forward at coming trends in hair, one of the first things we consider is couture fashion, and how it then leaks its way into co mmercial everyday fashion.(I.e. - The tailored men'sstyle suits by Yves Saint Laurent of the late 80's coupled with the androgynous short boy cut hairstyles on women). One aspect we must also consider when looking into the near future of coming trends in hair (as well as fashion) is the social and economical structure of our society, as well as how we, the people deal with it.

Let's take hair and fashion back 60 years. We'll start in the late 50's, early 60's. An important time for me, as this is when Vidal Sassoon rose up to the top of the hair fashion chain, and did something that no one else of that era was doing. It was called wash and wear hair, and it caught on like wildfire. Until that time, women were going into the salon once a week to get their hair "set", and lacquered, so that it would last yet another week. What Sassoon did was innovative. He used the architectural movement of Bauhaus (form follows function) to create beautiful hair that could move freely. Soft and feminine. Not fixed and rigid. It was during this time that women were starting to be seen more as equals among men. They no longer had to be pigeon-holed into themediocracy of being a housewife, staying at home while "the man" of the house went to work. No questions asked . Suddenly they were free. Just like their hair. A coincidence? I don't think so.

The 70's. A time of peace. Make love not war. The Vietnam war was now over, and it was a time of "free love". Loose morals called for loose hair. Women burned their bras, and men grew their beards. Everything was natural. Anything man-made or plastic was frowned upon (with over-grown eyebrows, no less)Leading up to the middle and end of the 70's another generation grew. It was called disco, and this was the height of 70's happy-go-lucky flamboyant fashion. There was a sexual energy in the air, and it was reflective of everything that was fashion of that time. Pants were tight, but the bottoms were loose. Like the hair. Like the attitudes. Was the hair loose and free like the human moral by coincidence? I don't think so. Free love was coming to an end.

By the late 70's, early 80's times were changing. Some social groups were rebelling against the "disco era". This new anarchical foundation was called punk, and it was everything that disco wasn't. It was a rebellious time with teenagers shaving their heads or sporting the Mohawk (pre-cursor to the faux-hawk of the more present.)Leather jackets replaced polyester. Shaved heads replaced perfectly coiffed center parted (feathered) hairstyles. It was a statement that reverberated anger and a time of rebellion and anarchy. And to every extreme fashion statement and social change, comes another. The scales tipped dramatically in the mid 80's with the "new romantic" period that followed. Suddenly there was love again. Romantic love. It became a time where it was ok. For men to wear eyeliner, and crimp their hair. The mid to late 80's, in my opinion was one of unique individuality, where anything went. And usually did. Hair became gravity- defiant. High hair became the norm. If it wasn't vertical, it wasn't right. It was a time when the economy was at it's peak. Everything was big. Hair was no exception. Women's jackets were worn with large shoulder pads. While lips and eyes were painted bright colours of green blue and fuchsia. Everything was big. Big money. Big hair. A coincidence? I don't think so. Then it all came crashing down.

The early to mid 90's was a time the economy was recovering from the large spending habits of the 80's. It was a time of recuperation. So what happened to women's hair during this time? It went shorter. It went messier. The unkempt boy cut was made popular again by the likes of up and coming models like Linda Evangelista. Heading into the mid 90's, T.V. Sitcoms were at a high (reflective of the economic times) and Television icons such as Jennifer Aniston brought haircuts like "the Rachel" to an all time high. Every women and their grandmother were running out to get this "new" hairstyle. Which, to any well knowledged hair stylist knew this was just another take on another popular hairstyles from the 70's. Called the "Farrah" after Farrah Fawcett. During the remainder of the 90's we lived through grunge fashion and grunge hairstyles. Hair length rose and dipped as much as women's hemlines on dresses. A coincidence? I don't think so. Then we moved into the new millennium.

During the early part of the millennium society was still in awe we were in a new millennium. People were afraid that the technology we had could not keep up to the ever changing needs of society. Technology was at the forefront of it all. That was reflective in fashion and hair. Edgy modernistic fashion and hair ruled the catwalks as well as the sidewalks. And to every extreme the scales will tilt. And tilt they did. With all the hard living from generations past, we the people were realizing more and more that our planet was in danger. Suddenly more and more Eco-friendly products were being introduced into our society. Electric cars. VOC. Or better yet, aerosol free hairsprays and containers were at the forefront. Society was going green. And so was fashion. Suddenly harshmetallics in clothing and more extreme hair colours were being traded in for earthier, more subtle colours and fabrics. Fashion was more purist. As was the hair. The downfall of our own economy in the past years has escalated this state of affairs. With the economy slowly coming to an end, so is another segment in hair and fashion. The sudden trend in 40's and 80's hair is an attribute to what is happening right now in our social economy. If you remember those decades, and what they represented you will see very clearly why these styles are coming back. Where they are going .And why they will be changing in the not so distant future.