Photograph by Shaw & Shaw
Business at the front, party at the back. Few hairstyles are so bold as to warrant a catchphrase. (Mullets inspire many, including ‘You dillhole’ and ‘Employ this!’)
But let’s stick with the original. Is it valid? Can we call it business in the front if the whole building is a mullet? Can we compartmentalise a head like this? If I have six A-levels but set fire to my school, I wouldn’t call myself half a model student.
As a hairstyle, it’s low maintenance. It works both styled and messy, combining flowing locks with an easy front section. But this isn’t about practicality. A mullet is pointedly anti-aesthetic. A mullet will not look good in 20 years, because it doesn’t look good now. It’s entirely possible you hate the mullet. That’s why Gen Z loves it: if your jawline has evaporated, you’re not invited to the party. The insouciance of youth shines clearest in those who are wearing stuff that looks objectively terrible, yet everyone still wants to shag them. Think Jacob Elordi, Paul Mescal, Benson Boone.
Women can wear it, too. After all, what is a wolf cut, this summer’s hottest hairstyle? It’s a shag with elements of mullet.
The mullet is reckless confidence. A gently chipped penalty kick, a sheer dress at an awards show. It’s dancing until you sweat buckets. It cares not what you think, or of appealing to anyone. That makes it life-affirming. Its philosophy is: party all the way. You’ll wake up with a terrible head in the morning, though.
Rhik Samadder is co-running a creative writing retreat in Tuscany, September 20-27th, open to all. See The Tuscan Table for details
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