In a police lineup, I might not be able to pick out the perp. But I guarantee I could pick out the teacher, IF teachers went around stepping into police lineups just for the fun of it, because heaven knows they have all that spare time on their hands, especially during the summer, when they don't do anything except sleep until time to get up to watch The View, and still get paid for it.
Where was I? Oh, picking teachers out of a lineup. That's possible because of their hairstyles. A more poorly-coiffed subset of the human population does not exist. Aging Barbies in a box in the attic or garage, maybe. But teachers have the market cornered on living, breathing examples of terrible tresses. That's because we just don't care. The do would quickly become disheveled anyway, what with all the jumping through hoops that we do each day.
Male teachers favor the shaved head, or the buzz cut, or that fringe around a gleaming dome. Rare is the comb-over. Too high-maintenance. It also seems that the Gabe Kotter has fallen by the wayside.
The women like to live in the past. What worked in the sixties and seventies will surely work today, even though the head under the hair is too young to have seen such hairstyles in television and movies. A frazzled Up the Down Staircase Sandy Dennis look is not uncommon. Or a Karen Valentine, Miss Johnson from Room 222, anybody? The Jane Fonda or Carol Brady shag kind of morphed into the mullet. The eighties gave us the Facts of Life Edna Garrett look for the more mature set. The nineties brought The Rachel, which is looked upon as very modern, that new hairstyle, in the halls of academia.
This is not meant to disparage those of my bloggy friends who teach the light fantastic. There is a sliding scale of style, and I'm sure you are at the very tip-top of it. I, myself, have slipped right off the bottom.
I really did have a point when I started. I'm thinking it was about the really bad haircut that was inflicted upon me yesterday. Not that anyone at school would notice.