The Resurrection of Linda Evangelista

This week in first world problems, 1% edition, Linda Evangelista and French billionaire Francois-Henri Pinault have reached a child support settlement after a couple of days of hilarious court testimony. Oh, the accusations! It was said that she wanted $46,000 a month for round-the-clock nannies and body guards, he said she was a gold digger, they had only dated briefly when she got pregnant in 2006.  It was getting really ugly so they had to back-pedal.  Supposedly it was all wild gossip, she didn’t ask for that much and he didn’t say she should have had an abortion.  One thing for sure, nothing attracts rampant sperm better than a set of achey-breaky ovaries.  Mammas, tell your sons when they grow up to be cowboys, DON’T RIDE BAREBACK!  And if an “accident” happens, man up, pay, and shut your pie hole.  Nobody wants an asshole for a father.  You go, girl.  You can tell whose side I’m on.

My level of excitement over the press coverage of this brouhaha went through the roof.  I’ve been a Linda fan since the “Haircut” back in the 80s.  When my friends and I started reading fashion magazines, we picked our favourite models, the ones that looked most like us, and copied them.  We didn’t make a fuss over how it was presented to us like they do now, whining:  “All that photoshopping makes that level of  beauty unattainable!  Magazines should be showing real women, blah blah!”  Fuck that! I don’t want to see “real” anything, I want to look in a magazine and be blown away.  You don’t expect to open up House and Home and see pictures of  kitchens with mismatched Rubbermaid containers half-eaten bags Dempster bread on the counter ( welcome to my crib).   I feel the same about fashion models.  Let them be better than us, even if it’s fake.  I need something to aspire to that is totally superficial otherwise I am bored.  Iron out those wrinkles, stamp out that cellulite…challenge accepted!

When I was a youngster in Montreal, my friends and I looked at fashion magazines for inspiration to hone our own personal style.  We didn’t complain about the airbrushing as it was back then, instead we took the cues and applied them to our own lives.  Magazines were our guides to successful modern living. Attaining the look was an adventure. Seventeen magazine had Phoebe Cates in Butterick sewing patterns that we messed up in high school Home-Ec class.  We diligently followed the “bikini blast diets” that Glamour provided for us every spring.  We copied Isabella Rossellini’s cat eyes from Mademoiselle with some vintage liquid eyeliner we got at Ben E. Noodleman’s pharmacy in Westmount.  We rolled up our Levis jeans like the photo spread called “Mean Jeans” and I got my hair cut like the model that looked like Elvis….so began my perpetual ever-changing hair metamorphosis.

And then came Linda Evangelista in the late 80s with her shorn locks and for the next 20 years, my hair plan was mapped out for me.  She was the most super of all the supermodels, in my humble opinion.  She got a bum rap from that comment she made in Vogue:  “We don’t wake up for less than $10,000 a day.”  Whatever, let them eat brioche. I get what you’re saying, sister.  Besides, she’s a model, not an oracle.  I long for the days where models were actually in magazines, not out in the streets with their tragic lives exposed to the world.  And! I personally don’t want to live in a world where D-List actresses like stumpy troll Hayden Panitierre are pushing products for cosmetics companies…that is a job for a supermodel!  Bring them back and I might actually buy a magazine again.

Enough ranting, here’s the gallery:

This is the short hair that put her on the map.  Pro tip: Short hair requires accessorizing and a lot of manipulation.  For me, it was a pain in the ass.  I am lazy and I hate the feeling of product, whatever kind crunchy or greasy.   But without it, I looked like a  hedgehog.  The “sideburns” would inevitably grow out unevenly and I’d end up trimming one side and then the other, then making a mess…not good.

This one was “the bob” which is super easy for me, my hairdresser at that time said I had Asian hair and should just be worn straight.  I think Linda has some wave in hers and this was probably a bitch to style.  The uber-short bangs only last that way for about a week but it’s just as well.  One of my friends once dubbed this hairstyle “the retarded Dutch girl” and once you see that, it cannot be unseen.

The red hair was my favourite look, makes green eyes pop. I dyed my own hair back then and ended up using clown red Manic Panic in a desperate attempt to keep it fresh.  Problems include the red hair dye fades super fast and stains your towels and pillows and your hair eventually goes brassy.  And again, when the word “clown” can be used in a description of your hair, you are fucked.

This blond business was four years ago.  My current hairdresser copied this perfectly for me and made it look “money,” not like a dumb,fun, blond but like a lady with a rich husband and a mean backhand. Blonds do not have more fun.  I couldn’t handle the fraudulent representation of my lifestyle. The floor boards screamed out “Liar!”  So my friend and I dumped a box of generic brown hair dye on it and brought it back to reality.  That was when I fired Linda as my hair guru, in my mind of course, she has no idea I exist.  Later, I ended up getting my hair lopped off like a hairstyle that I had copied from her 10 years earlier but I considered it self-emulation because she doesn’t not have the patent on the pixie cut.

4 years later, I haven’t really thought about her and of course, I have been growing my hair out.  I don’t really have a fashion mentor these days, everything I do is inspired by the Buddhist philosophy of detachment.  I don’t want anything.  I shop in my own closet.  You’d be amazed what it is stuffed in the back.

Then Linda appears on the news! How interesting is it that we currently have the same hair style!  It is serendipity! She is back in my consciousness and I love her!  I WANT THOSE SUNGLASSES SHE IS WEARING TO THE COURTHOUSE!!!

(Update:  A smart style hound from my Facebook identified those sunglasses in the top photo as Derek Cardigan for Clearly Contacts in Birch and they are on sale for $59…my pair has just been delivered and are sitting on top of my head like a crown,  I am basking post-hunt glory!)

And lest we forget:

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