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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Stories about Friendship & Family
- Subject: Bio/AutoBiographical
- Published: 10/08/2020
Hair in the Fifties.
Born 1951, M, from Wilmington NC, United States.jpeg)
Barber Shops, home Hair Cut kits, and Styles change. Gone are the days of your Dad saving money by cutting your hair with a trimmer that weighed more than the family cat. Gone are the days when there was more oil on a guys hair than in his old jalopy. Gone are the days when waves were on the front of your head, and the rest of your hair was parted on the left - like the Red Sea. Duck tails weren’t always on Ducks, and Flattops weren’t just nicknames for aircraft carriers. Crew Cuts were common among Jocks who let their girls have all the long hair.
Beards were almost unheard of. Tattoos were for Motorcycle Gangs or Rebels. Shoes were as shiny as your hair, or your fingernails. Men had brushes, combs, and potions for their hair…not as many as women with a head full of curlers, bobby pins, and hair clips, but enough to have to make choices. So join me as I go back in time. My time.
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I don’t know if you are under the age of say…fifty…if you would even remember these names: Brylcreem, Vitalis, Pomade. Maybe you might have heard of a Pompadour, D.A (Ducks Arse, or Duck’s Tail in the USA), a Breaker, Crew cut, Flat top, or the Detroit. By the mid sixties, Surfers had dry hair, Greasers had oily hair, and Hippies had long hair. LOL But that was later..let’s stick to the Fifties and Early Sixties. Although I must say, in the seventies I wore a Freedom, which is basically an Afro but on a White Kid. Just look at the Group: “Wild Cherry” as they play their hit song: “Play that funky music …” and you will see “Freedom’s” Galore. But that is far in my future…back to Brylcreem.
We had ten kids at home…so we had a Barber Shop kit. My dad still shaved with a straight razor. A razor he kept, well razor sharp by honing it on a leather strop (we called it a Stroth).
A fifties Barber Shop kit came with a trimmer, some attachments for close cuts like Flattops or Crew Cuts, other attachments were for layering the back or sides of your hair. And, of course, a hair trimmer. Those trimmers were massive. They sounded like a blow dryer, or lawn blower next to your ear. A humming sound that was strangely reassuring, even with the volume.
It came with three kinds of scissors too. Two of them had teeth, not straight edges, for “thinning hair” which, in my case, Nature did naturally years later. Just before she decided I didn’t need any hair on my head anymore. Again…I digress. Sorry. You older folks will understand how many detours there are on Memory Lane, so you young folks, just bare with me please- as I find my way back to the Fifties.
Now, there is (or was) a ritual that saved you from a Home Haircut. It was your first visit to a Barber Shop. Now, in my case as an inner city kid, that usually took place when you were five years old and starting school for the first time. Kindergarten. For some, First Grade. That first week before School Started Barber Shops throughout the city were jam packed. Even the bigger places that had more than two chairs had kids and Mother’s waiting in line.
Getting your hair cut was such a big deal, that often your Dad was the one that brought you. A passage for men and boys to go through together. You can’t imagine how big, comfortable , and intimidating those early Barber Chairs were to a small boy. And there is no smell like an old time Barber Shop…it is unique. Once you have smelled it, you will never forget it. Nor will you ever forget the dozens of combs, scissors, and what have you’s stuck in their cleansing jars of pure alcohol.
A real Barber rarely used a trimmer. That was for amateurs, Dad with to many kids and to little cash. A real Barber used scissors like a magic wand. And they all had a rhythm for “snapping the scissors” in between cuts. They were Artists, and with just a few questions and a quick run of their hand through your hair, they could decide how to turn a street urchin into a good looking Catholic School Boy. And they did.
Around sixth grade , or thereabout, you discovered girls. Since you discovered girls, the world of hair care products opened up: Brylcreem, Pomade, Vitalis and enough shampoos and conditioners to make a modern girl shriek out loud. Women most wore pony tails when I grew up, or a simple page boy. Or they tried for that “all natural look” - which took an unnatural amount of time, or potions, or both.
Girls, like my four older sisters, were told: “To brush your hair five hundred strokes, to bring out the natural oil and beauty and make it shine like silver and feel like silk.” It must have worked because they had shiny full heads of hair! And most of the time they put it in pony tails!
Damn…I digress again. I know this is uncomfortable for the reader, but, boy oh boy, is it fun for me. So many side trails on Memory lane. I won’t even mention Brut, or Old Spice. But they went with the hair!
If you look at pictures of Elvis in the Early Years, or James Brown, James Dean, or the Righteous Brothers…you will see what Pompadours, Breakers, and DA (Duck Tales) looked like. All that hair held up in a giant wave, parted on either the left (for most folks) but sometime on the Right for other folks, had to be held in place somehow.
Brylcreem.
Vitalis.
Pomade.
You used your comb to shape the wave, pull it to the back along the side, and curl it into a ducktail at the back. You just kept adding one of the three hair products I just listed, until the hair stayed where it belongs. Almost shellacked in place with a shine that reflected light. I got to the point where my wave was two inches high in the front with a back wave that blended right into the rest of my hair.
One of my best friends preferred a Crew Cut. The hair on the top as short as a half inch…if it was much longer than that, it morphed into a Flattop. A Flattop was basically a Crew Cut with longer hair. Basically the Flattop was a Civilian Cousin of the Military Crew Cut. Both were popular when I was young.
Sometimes, your hair was so greasy, that you had to rub your comb on your Corduroy Pants (Nobody wore Jeans yet…that was still about five years away) . At night you actually cleaned your comb with rubbing alcohol. Everyone carried a comb in their pocket. You knew it was a close buddy if you lent someone your comb. Everyone used a comb the same way.
Step one: Carefully make your part. Clear. Visible. Razor sharp line. Running from the front of your head to the back of your head like you had used Carpenters line to make it as straight as possible. Most folks put that part high up on the left side. Some folks lowered it an inch closer to the ear, but somewhere in that top/side meeting place was where that part went. As I mentioned before, some folks put their part on the right…and that felt weird to me.
Step Two: Comb the sides down out of the way. You will get back to them later.
Step Three: The wave. You could spend hours in front of the mirror to get that wave “perfect”. Lift. Pat. Oil. Repeat. Fifty or sixty times in a row, dousing the wave with either Brylcreem, or Vitalis. If you had a true Pompadour, well then you needed Pomade. Pomade was as thick as Petroleum Jelly, or Vaseline…both of which could be used in an emergency if you ran out of Brylcreem, Vitalis or Pomade.
Each of these products would hold your hair in place during a Category IV hurricane, maybe, if you were twelve or thirteen at the time, maybe even a Category V! Your wave was staying in place. Boy did it shine too. Each product had its own smell, just like the Barbershop which merged all these products in one place…plus after shave potions that stung your neck. Wonderful.
Step Four: Once the front and DA were set, it was off to work the sides. Some boys liked it straight down with a trim to let the ear show. Other’s preferred to slick it back like flames off the wheel well of a hot rod. I was in that group of hair shooting back like flames…I thought it looked cool with my red hair. I just combed it straight back using my ears to hold it from springing downwards. It also meant more Brylcreem, or Vitalis. Luckily, I have four older brothers, so I could choose from their products. If you must know…I became a Vitalis Guy.
Step Five: Step back and admire your handiwork. You were ready to go out. You kept your comb in only one of two places. Top left hand pocket of your shirt. Yes, we all wore shirts with a top left pocket. All dress shirts had two pockets back then. T-shirts also had a pocket on the left, usually just that one. It had two purposes: one- hold your cigarette pack. Two: hold your comb.
Occasionally you would meet a back pocket comb person. But after breaking or bending a few combs, they usually reverted to top left shirt pocket. Or…they bought smaller more rigid combs…and those hurt! The tines were fork like with no give at all. Ouch.
Now all that was left was to douse yourself with Old Spice, or Brut…and you were ready to go!
My later years in High School the Surfer look was in style for most folks. Hair was dry and not greasy anymore. You still had the part, but the sides would be as long, or longer than the top. Bangs were in. So was really long hair. So were Freedoms with blown out curls. Hair had shed itself of any rules.
That was the seventies though…and far far away from the Buzz Cuts of the fifties. You know you liked a girl if she could touch your hair. Entire commercials were dedicated to just that experience. “Run your fingers through his hair…” And they did. The marketing promise was their would be no greasy feeling, the reality was, her fingers literally slid through your hair…with hopes of mussing it up.
And that was a new look too.
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