I have this weird thing where I feel intrinsically attached to people who share the same birthday as me.
Actually, it's not weird. It's a common thing, for serious. I read about it in my social psychology textbook (and textbooks are super official). Apparently, whenever someone shares a similar trait as us, e.g., a birthdate, we are inclined to feel like they are more relatable than if they were just another random stranger. Interesting, right?
I also kind of believe in astrology. Okay, not kind of. I believe in it a lot. I am SUCH a Libra, you guys. If you look up Libra in the dictionary, you should find my picture. If you don't, you should write to Webster's and complain and shit.
Naturally, I feel very close to my fellow Librans, and especially close to Libras born on September 30th, my birthday. (I've been mentioning it a lot lately. This might lead you to think I want presents or something. [I totally want presents.]) Some September 30th babies include the eternally fabulous Truman Capote, the bodacious Monica Bellucci, and T. Rex frontman and curly-haired god Marc Bolan. I'm in good company, non?
Marc is endlessly interesting to me, what with his incredible music (currently spinning in my room, hello neighbors), tragic death and over-the-top glitter'd and eyeliner'd glam rock style. (We will not call it guyliner, ew. Jane doesn't like portmanteaus and besides, Marc's just a guy, wearing eyeliner.) And don't let me forget his amazing head of hair. 'Cause you know, he ain't no square with his corkscrew hair.
So here I am, being inspired by Marc in my own look and also you know, having deadlines and what not; I decided to write a post about MB. I've got a sizeable bit of volume going on at the moment and a need to share my secrets, so let's -- prepare for terrible joke in 1, 2, 3 -- bang a gong (get it on).
Big, Bad Hair
I could probably get it bigger but I don't want to scare small children.
Marc had a gorgeous hair. I'm kind of obsessed with dudes who have lustrous, thick heads of hair because I don't know, it stirs up a desire in me to breed and create thick-haired children. (Even though I know that baldness comes from the mother's side of the family and I don't really understand DNA or anything but basically -- I know my logic is flawed but HAIR.)
(P.S. are you sick of my endless parentheses? It's the only way for me to truly articulate the 5,000 thoughts my brain is processing and spitting out at once, so accept me as I am, bitches.)
ANYWAY. The point is, I see big, beautiful hair and I want it. I want to touch it and run my fingers through it and make a toupee out of it to stick on top of my own hair. But I can't. Marc Bolan is dead so I don't have the chance to take his hair, so I must create it with beauty products and the hair that was given to me by SCIENCE/NATURE/GOD.
The first thing I used to create this mad volume and texture was water. Yeah, water. My hair got wet in the rain today and when it was nearly dry but still a bit damp, I rolled it into a bun to dry and create wild, natural waves. The higher you set the bun on the top of your head, the more volume and madness that will be unleashed when you let it out. However, you don't have to run cackling through a thunderstorm like I did to get your hair wet. You can just like, take a shower.
Work that pink satin jacket, boy.
After my hair was good and dry I added some bigger curls by wrapping smallish (less than 1 inch) sections of hair around my flat iron for a few seconds.
Then for the fun part. BABY POWDER. Okay, you can use dry shampoo but I love baby powder for how suuuuper dry it is. It really builds texture and soaks up gross sweat and scalp smells (ew, I'm glamorous) and just really works for this look. If you want to really plump up your bubble of hair, try got2b's Powder'ful Voluminizing Powder which I wrote a love letter to a few months ago.
Now at this point, your hair is probably already pretty big. But I don't want to stop there. It can be bigger, damn it! This is where you take a boar-bristled or other type of natural-bristled hairbrush (like this or this if you're fancy) and, starting at the ends, brush up/tease your curls in an upwards motion. This will give you that awesome early 70s, frizzed out glam-rock god (or maybe Band-aid, your choice) look.
The final step? Set it with a good quality, strong hold hairspray. L'Oreal's Elnett is the gold standard. If you really want to push it into rock 'n' roll territory, add glitter spray to the mix. I am fanning myself thinking about how badass this look is. Or maybe it's just really hot in my apartment, I don't know. I'm hungry and it's making me confused.
Glam Rock Eyes
Marc didn't shy away from eyeliner and shadow, usually in dark, mood-y shades, smudged about in a smokey, haphazard way.
Just one of many awesome, bright shades.
Sephora's Jumbo Liner 12HR Wear Waterproof in 27 Electric Blue Matte ($12, sephora.com) is a big smudge-y crayon that you can use to line your eyes with wild abandon and then, poof, it's stuck there. Get sweaty and dance and then worry about taking it off when you get home at whatever o'clock.
Marc totally would've kept this backstage.
For an array of smoked out, glammy eye color options, Urban Decay's Smoked Eyeshadow Palette is where it's at ($49, sephora.com). 10 shadow shades ranging from dark inky black and blue, to bronze and green, plus a black liner pencil and eyelid primer means you can create multiple Marc-esque eye looks all with one convenient kit. Yay, convenience!
Now xoJane beauties, tell me which men inspire your beauty look? If that's too bizarre a question, just tell me about which dead musician you wanna make out with or something. I don't care, I want pizza and I'm really delirious right now and I'm ending this post to go get something to eat. That is all.
Twitter idiot: @hannahejo