HE'S A MAN, EATEN (OR JUST LOOKS THAT WAY): Back when I was working in Seattle, my 70-year-old office manager had a beehive hairdo tinted to a deep fluorescent yellow, Fuller-brush applications of blue eye shadow, and a knee-length purple leather coat. Gloria was the inspiration for my realization that if you're not careful, your fashion sense might silently fossilize. This explains why we accept our grandparents' matching track suits, our neighbors' guy-ponytails and goatees (or, if you live on the other coast, brush cuts and goatees), and Paulie Walnuts's wispy pompadour. They reached a point where they were comfortable with the contemporaneity of their appearance -- for some, the apex of their hipness -- and they locked it in. I live in fear that my own personal style ossified in 1995, leaving me unable to register the pitying glances of the more stylishly current and currently stylish.
Although I am aware of this phenomenon, it was still a shock to see Darryl Hall's cameo on this week's Conchords, with his trademark nimbus of early-'80s moussed mullet casting a shadow over really tired eyes. I believe that I actually yelped at the shock of it.
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