I know that ponytails on dudes were once a sign of a rebellious spirit and a daring fashion sense. But think about it—when was the last time you saw a ponytail on a guy who didn’t look like a cartoon character?
I pondered this the other day as I watched an old hippy with a long gray ponytail purchase a soy chai latte at one of my favorite coffee shops. He was probably 65 or so, and wearing stone jewelry, a linen shirt, and sandals that had obviously seen a lot of mileage. I don’t want to critique the guy. I’m sure he’s a perfectly nice dude, and he was probably taking shrapnel in the ass in Vietnam long before I was even a zygote, but the ponytail got me to thinking about how other younger guys are trying to sport the long locks these days. 99 out of 100 times, it’s an exercise in choad absurdity.
Leather loving Harley riders have been doing it all along, but that’s a look all to itself. No one picks on the dude who rides a Hog no matter how silly he looks. But there’s a whole new group of guys out there thinking that ponytails are a smooth way to go, and they haughtily flaunt their choice as though it separates them from the rest of their choady brethren. Know what they look like? Choads with no style.
The art student, for example—you’re not counter culture, you’re cliché! Half the art department at the local university has ponytails, and they all need to be WASHED. What, were you afraid that merely studying art wouldn’t make you hipster enough? Felt the need to wear a badge of eccentric independence to announce how you reject conformity? Nice move. You’re as dull and two dimensional as your paper machê collage series.
Or the dude in the band—guys, the 80s are long dead, and fortunately for style and music they are NOT coming back anytime soon. Have you seen Vince Neil lately? How about Axl Rose? No? Whaddya think that means? It means it’s time for you to get a friggin haircut you tragic wannabe. Try and keep up.
But my favorite is the dark and brooding rebel—the guy who plays the mysterious card for as long as possible. You don’t know what he does for a living. You don’t know where he lives. You don’t know who his friends are. He makes vague references to past experiences, but never blatantly says where he’s been or what he’s done. But he wears that ponytail like it’s a symbol of dignity, like he’s one of a dying breed of independent thinkers. Please, spare me the Jack Kerouac routine, you’re just some dude that serves coffee at the local boho spot.
The ponytail needs to be left in the 60s when it meant something.
These days it’s a bull’s-eye for choad seeking missiles. Your choad stature would be less obvious if you wore a sign around your neck that read “I drive an SUV to make up for my impotence.”
On the other hand, maybe it’s not such a bad thing that choads are wearing ponytails. It certainly makes them easier to pick out.
This way we don’t have to worry about branding them.
