Without my Johnson trademark mop of yellow hair, I think I would be nothing.
Geez, I wish I could tell you I had a whole bunch of '80s hair bands, you know something you really wouldn't expect, but I don't know that the music police would be that surprised, because most of the stuff that I am influenced by is in evidence in the music.
I have two main hair people I work with. They're always with me. I'm like, 'I'm bored! I wanna change my hair!' That's the good thing about a weave. You can do whatever with it.
Both my New Hampshire great-grandfathers wore facial hair: the Copperhead who fought in the war and the sheep farmer too old for combat.
Once upon a perfect night, unclouded and still, there came the face of a pale and beautiful lady. The tresses of her hair reached out to make the constellations, and the dewy vapours of her gown fell soft upon the land.
This head has risen above its hair in a moment of abandon known only to men who have drawn their feet out of their boots to walk awhile in the corridors of the mind.
I have no fears when it comes to my hair or clothes.
I have straight hair. If I don't blow it out, it's not good.
I grew up in Dallas, with cowboys. I was the only guy in sixth grade with long hair and an earring. Let's just say I got a lot of, er, flak for being different.
I love to cook and really enjoy cleaning my house. People always tease me about getting a maid. My girlfriend tells me that they are only $40 and will do everything. But that is my time to unwind, put my hair in a ponytail, throw on sweats, and be myself.
Basically, they had asked me if I would shave my head or wear a bald cap. I said look, if you are doing a series for five years I would want to shave my hair because I would go bald with all the gum and glue from the bald cap.
I decided to grow my hair out during college, and it's kind of stuck ever since. Even when I thought about cutting it or trimming it, common sense kicks in, and I don't think the fans would recognize me; people wouldn't know who I am. It would almost be like Santa Claus losing his powers.
Inflation is when you pay fifteen dollars for the ten-dollar haircut you used to get for five dollars when you had hair.
It took us a lot of man hours to get that bloody white hair out, so it's good to get rid of it.
I'm a five-seasons griller! Did you know I added a new season? Living in Cali, I'm cooking in the yard all the time. I don't care what the weather is like. My hair is impervious to any kind of dampness, so I don't have too much to worry about.
I will be 60 or 70 years old still rocking my Chanel blazer with my hair all coiffed.
I have not had any plastic surgery in any shape or form. No implants. And my hair is not dyed.
Most small business owners are not particularly sophisticated business people. That's not a criticism; they're passionate about cutting hair or cooking food, and that's why they got in the business, not because they have an MBA.
I got into my very theatrical phase. I wore only black: a big black hat and wild hair and wild black clothes, and I carried a sword stick. I went there still looking like Miss Florida, and I came back looking very different.
You know, sometimes I feel well and vital in the world, and sometimes I just feel so distressed I want to pull my hair out by the roots.
I also said, men are like curling irons, they never get out of your hair. And they are like government bonds, they take so long to mature.
When I was 13, I began relaxing my hair, and that meant when I turned 18 it began to crack and fall off, and when I began anchoring, I had short, stubbly pieces of hair. And trying to report in San Francisco with fog meant my hair swelled.
I am actively campaigning for 'chest hair' to become an Olympic sport.
I hated Chris, my brother. I would pull his hair and kick him, until one day my father gave him permission to fight back. I'll be apologizing to him for the rest of my life.
I am Armenian, so of course I am obsessed with laser hair removal! Arms, bikini, legs, underarms... my entire body is hairless.
The first generation of Russian terrorists came out of the '60s counterculture - the 1860s in Russia bearing a striking similarity to the 1960s in the United States, with Russian students growing their hair, following gurus who extolled the 'new man,' and starting communes.
I have white hair now, but a lot of it, and I'm still very glamorous, and so I won't disappoint, I hope! I'll still be wearing the tight leather trousers and high-heel boots, regardless of what age!
I hate being mean. I watch those roasts on Comedy Central and they make the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
I don't believe in bright, cheesy colors that are applied from roots to tips. I'm not really into that. But I love the more fashion-y way of adding color to your hair methodically.
Bobbed hair makes women look uniform. They lack individuality.
Children change you. You have this overwhelming feeling of responsibility, of love - they're everything. They're yours. You know when you're cuddling them, cradling them, and you can smell their hair. I love that.
You must understand the texture of your hair before you choose a style.
The most important thing I can tell you about aging is this: If you really feel that you want to have an off-the-shoulder blouse and some big beads and thong sandals and a dirndl skirt and a magnolia in your hair, do it. Even if you're wrinkled.
I'm really an outdoorsy girl. People think I can't go anywhere without getting all primped up, but I love to go camping, and I'm totally fine with not doing my hair or makeup, not taking a shower and just hiking.
Nature is one great big wood-chipper. Sooner or later, everything shoots out the other end in a spray of blood, bones and hair.
When I was little, I got to pick my hair ribbon from my mother's collection that hung over her dressing-table mirror. I have an entire room of ribbons in my New York apartment.
