GRAY MATTERS

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

I’m not one to keep up with fashion trends, except when they strike me as particularly hideous or inane. Impractical footwear: If the heels are so high, you get a nosebleed, they’re not shoes, they’re health risks. Spray-tanning: That skin color does not occur naturally in any species except Oompa-Loompas. The return of harem pants: MC Hammer called … he wants his 1990 wardrobe back. No pants at all: Only if you’re Lady Gaga, in which case, it’s expected.

One of the latest fads infecting the chronically hip is what some have dubbed “the granny movement.” No, it has nothing to do with geriatric bowel functions; it’s all about going gray – courtesy of a dye kit rather than the natural aging process.

From London’s cool cliques, runway models, celebs like Pink, Kate Moss, Victoria “Posh” Beckham and one of the ubiquitous Olsen twins to the funky-chic geek down the block, charcoal-colored coifs are all the rage. Among the most noted of the “hipparrazi,” as I like to call ‘em, is 13-year-old blogger and style mascot Tavi Gevinson, who’s been making the scene at fashion shows and after-parties in her self-described “awkward jackets and pretty hats” and a blue-gray Dutch-boy bob. Sure, it’s cute now, but what’s she gonna do for an encore … a hip replacement at 16?

Of course, this craze is more prevalent among the younger set, ‘cause I don’t know too many women over 25 who don’t run screaming in horror at the sight of their first silvery strands. According to Nielsen, their older counterparts collectively spend $1.3 billion to hide their grays, but many of these so-called trendsetters are plunking down $200-plus per head to acquire the salt-and-pepper look … without the pepper.

I don’t get it. And I want it to stop before it gets out of hand. Next thing you know, it’ll be en vogue to carry those little coin purses that hold a megazillion pennies, which MUST be counted one by one in order to give cashiers exact change, thus holding up the rest of the checkout line.

Nothing good can come of this voluntary graying of America, I tell you. It can only lead to the popularization of other trends like:

* Male pattern baldness haircuts

* Beaded necklaces made from Geritol, Pepcid and Viagra.

* Henna tattoo liver spots

* Crow’s feet facial decals

* Perpetually blinking stick-on turn-signals for hipster hybrid cars

* Instead of blinged-out grillz? BeDazzled dentures!

* Ugg boots designed to look like black socks with sandals

* Tiny ear-hair wigs

* Customized doorbell that shouts, “You kids get off my lawn!”

Gray hair may be the new “in” thing for some, but frankly, I’d much rather see it on those who have earned it the OLD-fashioned way.

DUDE, WHERE'S MY 'STACHE?

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Mustaches are making a comeback and I, for one, am hyena-happy about it. I’ve had enough of the pitiful face-fluff Hollywood’s been fobbing off on us for the past couple of decades. I’m sick of the scruffy stuff that screams, “I spend my paycheck on hobo wine instead of razors!” and the wan wisps reminiscent of pubescent boys going for a look that says “gangsta,” but ending up with “Got Milk?”

According to the American Mustache Institute (I swear I didn’t make that up), the end of the ‘70s began a Dark Age of discrimination against the hair-lipped. The St. Louis-based organization, which hosts an annual “‘Stache Bash,” battles negative stereotypes and fights for the rights of the oppressed Mustache-American masses. Indeed, the time has come to return to the masculine mouth-mantels of yesteryear. From studly (Burt Reynolds) to silly (Groucho Marx) to shaggy (Wilford Brimley), the mustache has a proud, well-groomed history among celebrities. So wear those lip-whiskers with pride, boys … they aren’t just for truckers, Hell’s Angels or Gene Shalit anymore.

If you’re thinking about letting your hair down, here are some noted mustache mavens you might want to mimic:

* Clark Gable in Gone With the Wind – “Frankly, Scarlett, I don’t give a damn if it itches when I kiss you.”

* The biker from The Village People – Mucho macho, man!

* Dr. Phil – Warning: Side effects may include smugness and slavish devotion to Oprah. If you experience an overinflated ego lasting more than four hours, please see your doctor.

* Lionel Richie – A look guaranteed to have you dancing on the ceiling all night long. Jheri Curl optional.

* Frank Zappa – There aren’t too many guys who can rock the horseshoe ‘stache. Case in point: Hulk Hogan.

* Charlie Chaplin – The Little Tramp was well-known for his little “toothbrush” mustache. Unfortunately, so was Hitler.

* Tom Selleck – While he won an Emmy for his portrayal of Magnum, P.I., his facial hair deserved an award for Best Supporting Actor.

* Sacha Baron Cohen – Is true that man who look like Borat always make sexy time with the ladies!

* Mario of Nintendo fame – Sudden increases in firepower and running abilities may occur.

No list would be complete – and this one’s nowhere close – without a tip of the razor to rugged veteran actor Sam Elliott, whose mustache is truly a wondrous thing to behold. In fact, I think it deserves a place on the National Park Service’s list of natural monuments, right up there with Yellowstone Park and the Everglades.

If you’re still uncertain about flaunting your facial foliage, visit www.petmoustache.com, where you can upload a photo of yourself and get a sneak peek at what you’d look like with a ‘stache. As for me, I don’t need the preview to know what I’d look like with facial hair. Thanks to middle age and Mother Nature, I’ll be finding out soon enough.

Big hair is an AFRO-disiac

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

I have afro envy.

With the afro making a comeback in the last few years, I’ve often thought, "Sure would be nice to not have to wonder how I’m gonna fix my hair today." Unfortunately, my hair is of a length, weight and texture that doesn’t lend itself well to such a hairstyle. Oh, I can rock the "half-fro," wherein the hair fans out on either side a la Roseanne Rosannadanna, but I can’t achieve the altitude required for adequate afro-ness.

I want an afro of such gargantuan proportions that I’d have to turn sideways to walk through a door, like O.J. Simpson’s Nordberg in Naked Gun 33⅓: The Final Insult. I want a mystical mountain of magic like Bobobo-bo Bo-bobo’s in the Shonen Jump anime series.

When I was 8, the reigning queen of blaxploitation filmdom was Pam Grier, who boasted a halo of hair that made the Jackson 5 look like the Hair Club for Men. Nobody messed aroun’ with Foxy Brown, ‘cos she packed a revolver. In her afro! In Coffy, Grier was "the baddest one-chick hit squad that ever hit town," according to movie posters. Anyone doubting her badness came away minus a few fingers, thanks to the razor blades hidden in her ‘fro – an essential accessory when engaging in hair-pulling catfights. I had no desire to use my hair as a weapons arsenal; I just wanted to look like the baddest one-chick hit squad that ever hit the fourth grade.

Around the same time, there was Tamara Dobson – sort of a decaf Coffy, if you will. At 6’2, Dobson was the tallest leading lady in film, according to the Guinness Book of World Records, which didn’t factor in the groovy platforms and funkadelic ‘fro that put Dobson near 7 feet tall in Cleopatra Jones.

"Hair's like a woman. You treat it good and it treats you good," says Doodlebug, a character in the movie. "You gotta hold it, caress it and love it." But no amount of holding, caressing and loving would give me an awesome blossom like the one on Cleo’s head.

Being afro-tastic transcends race and ethnicity. Just look at the cast of Welcome Back, Kotter. With the exception of Vinnie Barbarino, the Sweathogs were a veritable United Nations of afro-osity. Mr. Kotter (Jewish), Freddie "Boom Boom" Washington (black), and Juan Epstein (Puerto Rican Jew) all were fine specimens of afro-hood. I’m not sure what Arnold Horshack’s ancestry was, but he definitely inherited the afro gene.

If I want to achieve even a semi-respectable facsimile of an afro, I have two options. One would be to buzz my locks to about 3-4 inches, the length at which it begins to form single curls instead of spirals. But this would leave me with what we referred to in my childhood as a "TWA" – Teeny-Weeny Afro – thus defeating the purpose.

The alternative would be to torture my hair with no fewer than 283 tightly wound, microscopic curlers and enough Aqua Net to obliterate the ozone layer. It hardly seems worth the effort, since half a day of humidity would transform me from Erykah Badu to Erykah Ba-don’t.

GIRLS GONE BALD

By BELINDA M. PASCHAL

For the past few weeks, we've been knee-deep in the hoopla surrounding Britney Spears' impromptu head-shaving episode. Without a doubt, the poor girl is 10 pounds of crazy in a five-pound bag, but she's certainly not the first famous woman to bare her noggin.

Traditional standards of femininity dictate that a woman's hair is her crowning glory, and nowhere is this more apparent than in the entertainment business, where what's on top of a woman's skull garners more attention than what's inside it.

Tradition, schmadition, I say. There are numerous follicularly-challenged females who exemplify shear beauty. As proof of this, I present to you my personal Top 10 Hottest and/or Coolest Bald Women in Entertainment, in no particular order:

1. Grace Jones: Pull Up to the Bumper was a big hit for Jones, who pulled up to the barber to become one of the first chrome-domed women in popular music.

2. Lieutenant Ilia in Star Trek: The Motion Picture: Persis Khambatta lopped off her raven locks to portray a Deltan dish who exuded pheromones to attract human males, thus bypassing the expense of Bud Light and ESPN.

3. Evey Hammond: Natalie Portman went all Edward Scissor-head two years ago for this role in V for Vendetta and looked absolutely stunning. Of course, Portman would still be gorgeous with a dead possum atop her head, whereas Donald Trump has never been able to pull off that look.

4. Ellen Ripley, Alien 3: As one of filmdom's few bona-fide female action heroes, Sigourney Weaver kicked butt in this 1992 sequel without the annoyance of a hairstyling posse spritzing her every five minutes to maintain that "I'm all sweaty from fighting a drooling space monster" look.

5. Lt. Jordan O'Neil: Demi Moore rocked a buzz cut as a Navy SEAL in 1997's G.I. Jane. She won rave reviews and dazzled moviegoers — including future hubby Ashton Kutcher, who had to be accompanied by an adult to see this R-rated flick.

6. Sinèad O'Connor: No list of baldy babes would be complete without the controversial Irish rocker who's as well-remembered for shredding a photo of Pope John Paul II on Saturday Night Live as she is for hits like Nothing Compares 2 U.

7. Melissa Etheridge: Wearing her smooth scalp as a badge of courage from her battle with breast cancer, Etheridge stole the show at the 2005 Grammys with a medley of Janis Joplin's Cry Baby/Piece of My Heart.

8. Queen Elizabeth I: While not officially an entertainment figure, Elizabeth of Tudor, who went bald at age 29 due to smallpox, has been portrayed on TV and film, most recently by Helen Mirren on last year's great HBO mini-series.

9. India.Arie: A champion of self-love over societal standards of beauty, she crooned, "I am not my hair/I am not this skin/I am not your expectations," in last year's I Am Not My Hair.

10. Prymaat Conehead: Jane Curtin and Dan Aykroyd as matrimonial companion Beldar were noted for the uniform consistency and gradual diminution of their subcutaneous cranial regions. Yeah, I had to consult a dictionary to understand 'em, too.

Honorable Mention: Jeri Ryan as Seven of Nine in Star Trek: Voyager.

While I applaud the courage of women who break the bonds of conventionality and dare to go bare, I won't be shaving my head any time soon. This isn't merely a matter of vanity; it's just that it would be terribly embarrassing to have Linus mistake my freakishly round noggin for The Great Pumpkin come Halloween.