been making sweet love to this batch of old, brittle, ash blond hair all afternoon.

Mildly [as in, manically] obsessed with old heads with implanted hair, I came across this one in an obscure old town in Europe. It’s a mere 13 inches tall. When I got my hands on it, it was covered in some sort of soot and ashy dirt. I was not sure of the kind of hair fiber, until I started washing it. It started reeking of goat. It was yak hair. It turned out to be an alluring pure white color, resembling coarse human hair in texture and behavior. Endless hours of hair play ahead.

Been studying Kim Novak’s hair in Vertigo again. Hitchcock seems to have been obsessed with using it as a character, these loving close ups make it so obvious. Many shots are composed around her hairstyles [all delicate wigs] and often, the actual lens focus is on her hair, not the faces. The swirl chignon isn’t there for mere decoration, built like a dizzying vortex leading into a dark hole. When Madeleine needs to seem upset, her hair tells part of the story. When she’s in top form seducing Scotty, not a single hair out of place, even on a windy hilltop. When she needs to inspire Scotty’s sympathy and protection, her hair is at its most vulnerable, exposed, sad wet tendrils, crying on her back. Her hair is a main character in the diabolical plot against poor, dazzled Scotty.

Not gone with the wind. Elnett-ed to infinity.

Sad, confused chignon.

Ready for its close up. One of many.

Another miracle of senses is inspired by the two different shots used when Scotty sees Madeleine for the first time. This scene was reshot after filming had been completed [Novak had looked in the camera by mistake] and bears signs of inevitable slips in continuity. Can you guess which is the latter version? It’s the one with the redder background.

Judy is a mere brunette, a lesser breed. She knows it. “I’m just a girl.”

As Judy, she disappears into the background. She has no light.

“I don’t care about me anymore.”

More can be said about Midge’s [sensible] hairstyle and about Carlotta Valdez’ [severe] hairstyle.
Anyway, meet Kim’s wig head, on which Max Factor created her Vertigo wigs.

Incessantly collecting (and using) old school hairstyling tools.
They don’t make rollers like these anymore. These metal ones are from the early 40s. They retain heat and transmit it into the hair long after you take them out of the dryer, making for a tighter curl. Their mesh construction renders them unsuitable for fine bleached hair, as they will leave dents. But perfect for thick, virgin hair. The spring coil ones, are in such rare small sizes, perfect for sideburns, baby hair, nape curls and for sneaking them between large ones where needed. These bad girls have just arrived, to join an army of long forgotten, strange old (very useful) curlers in my arsenal of old tools.
(also, observe the early 30′s pin curl clips, that are formed in a way that doesn’t crush the hair!)

Nothing soothes me like touching old, brittle, destroyed hair.

Should I? Hm..

Fascinating, the level of fine craftsmanship that went into the making of these exquisite shop window mannequins. Pierre Imans in Paris and Irwin Culver in New York, early 20s. Due to the fact that they were made of vulnerable organic materials such as glass, wax, paper and human hair, so few of them survive today in good condition but I’m hell bent on acquiring one to study.

Suddently the barista shouted from across the cafe, to ask
me what was it I was reading. Obtrusive monkey.

b

Hair can be such a dramatic component of a film scene. That, is often forgotten today.

I’m always vehemently researching the great old artists that worked at the movie studios from as early as 1915. Max Factor, Eddie Senz, Jack Pierce, Perc Westmore. The tools and techniques they came up with, are still what we use today.
Old Hollywood. *sigh*