I. Love. My. Mohawk.

Having had hair for the better portion of my life, I forget how nice it feels to shave it off. I’d done it some in high school. A mohawk, then grow it out. Shave it, grow it out. After a while I couldn’t do the things I wanted with my hair and keep up with my I-don’t-care facade. Not to mention the cost of razors, the time it consumed, and the TV I missed while doing it.

Don’t even get my started on bleaching and dying.

No, I couldn’t give up the things I wanted to do an otherwise privileged thing. But now that I’ve begun again, years later… God damn, I love my mohawk.

You might ask why I don’t just shave it all off if I love shaving my head so much? To which I respond; are you out of your fucking mind? I mean, for one, when I sleep at night almost no matter how hot it gets I still wear a blanket. Same thing goes for my hair; I just need that extra cover so I don’t feel so… naked.

Secondly, mohawks are just different. I know mohawks aren’t exactly as startling as they once were. But when peoples eyes gaze down that landing strip across my skull they tend to give one of two reactions.

“Fuck, that guy is crazy” or “Fuck, that guy is cool.” I know, fucking shallow shit right there, n’est pas? But you know you love it too. Some might argue that having a mohawk is supposed to be a statement of how punk, or metal, you really are. That it’s a sign of the culture and all it entails. And to this, again I respond; are you out of your fucking mind? More on this at ten.

The second response people usually give is one of pity, or disgust. Why the FUCK would you do that to your hair? What are you trying to prove? Do you think you’re the hot shit for doing that to yourself? The answer is, strangely enough; meh. I’m indifferent. At least when I see someone scowling at me from across the road I know that theirs is an opinion I will not cherish. I don’t do it for them anyway, I do it for myself and the people who can appreciate.

Hair and style are like artistry. You may not realize it, but you see it every day. It defines the society you dwell in and it defines the people within. In my community you see a lot of billboards in spanish, with Chicano faces. You don’t see billboards like that in other places. And like the billboards you see, the mohawk is the sign of me.

So, yes, there is a question to be answered; How ‘punk rock’ (or ‘metal’) are mohawks? Specifically in this day and age. The answer? Just barely. The mohawk now stands as a symbol for other’ness moreso than punk’ness. I’m not like you, I’m the other.

I’ve seen flamey gay men with mohawks (not to be mistaken for faux-hawks) who otherwise have no interest in the harder edged music. I’ve seen dancers, actors, artists, and fashionistas with little or no interest in punk or metal who sport the mohawk. The mohawk is intended to stand out, now just as much as it did when kids first began adopting the look in the 70s.

Look, if you shave your head (completely) does it make you a skinhead? No, it doesn’t. If this were the case, shit, Montel Williams would be a skin. And that guy ain’t tuff like that. The closest way one can get to being identified as a skin or punk or metalhead or otherwise would be to dress the part. Hair is a start, but is not the end all be all.

And goddamn I love my mohawk. But I do not dress punk. I listen to punk, more than I listen to any other form of music really. I align myself moreso with punk rock mentality than I ascribe to any other. But, in the end, I do not don the uniform. But we’re not here to talk about my punk’ness nor my atire. We’re here to talk about mohawk.

So why the mohawk for me? Because it’s fun. Really, that’s what it is. I actually take pride out of reshaving the sides of my head every few days. I take time to meditate while I trim it down some. I like the appreciative glances I get. And also, because it makes me feel damned sexy.

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