Britney Spears, our beloved national treasure, recently shaved her head. We think she looks nice. Slimmer. But for many, her widely publicized tonsorial freakout has inspired reminiscences of bad haircuts past. And boy, were those some bad haircuts…
Where she presides: Social, Hell’s Kitchen
Favorite drink: Grey Goose Apple Martini
The worst thing I ever did to my hair was dye it into submission. By the time I got done with it I had natural layers just from most of it being dead. I went blonde, then blonder, and then blondest, and then did it again about three times in a row. It was way over-processed. But I just got my hair cut after growing it out to get rid of the bad parts.
Where he presides: Cutting Room, Flatiron
Favorite drink: Bourbon
When I was a teenager, I wore my hair really long. Actually I wore it in big brown ringlet curls. One day I decided to cut out a nice chunk to give to the girl I was going out with at the time. Needless to say, it didn’t look too good. But she didn’t care, she was blown away by the strength of the gesture. Which part of my hair did I cut out? I don’t know… the part with the prettiest ringlets.
Where he presides: Reservoir, East Village
Favorite drink: Gin and tonic
Bi-hawks. You know, you have two Mohawks, one on each side of your head. But I didn’t even pick it, somebody did it to me when I was passed out at a party when I was 16 years old. It was brutal. They weren’t even evenly shaved.
Where she presides: 7B, East Village
Favorite drink: Sauza Hornitos
I don’t know if I’ve ever had one. I think I’ve always been very cautious about how I’ve cut my hair and who did it. And I’ve definitely had enough breakdowns in my life to know to never shave my head. I might have given some bad haircuts, but I haven’t gotten any.
Where he presides: Bar None, Third Avenue
Favorite drink: Iced Tea
My hair was about this length [shoulder length or so] and I went to a place to get a trim. I told the guy I just wanted it shorter and layered; so I fell asleep, and then I wake up and he’s blow drying it, but nothing’s gone. So I say that I wanted it a little shorter. He says “shorter?” I say, “yeah, shorter.” So I fall asleep again, and when I wake up he’s shaved half my head. He didn’t speak English. He didn’t understand what I wanted. So then I had to let him shave the other half too — and then I had to tip him, because he never even knew he did anything wrong.