Even more perplexing than Kanye’s moisture deprived box-n-shag combo is the use of the phrase “black mullet” to describe said disaster. Last Ak checked—and admittedly this was in the mid-to-late 80s—a mullet was something you’d most likely see on people like Billy Ray Cyrus or the everyman below.
This is a mullet.
Now, if Kanye, Bobby, Ricky or Mike rocked a cut that was long in the back, that was a shag, plain and simple.
Could Bobby's shag have been what put him over the edge?
Perhaps Ak is too territorial. But it seems unfair to reduce a style so distinctly Afro American to a mullet derivative. African Americans invented peanut butter, the traffic light and bypass surgery. We’re more than capable of whipping up our own trichological tsunamis. Just ask Ready for the World.
Another "great" moment in African American follicular history
Without a full-fledged movement, it seems impossible to take back the shag. So Ak would like to push for a new term that includes everyone’s heritage. Let’s call the foolishness Kanye’s rocking The Shullet.
We now pronounce this The Shullet. Tell a friend.
Since it debuted, I have been trying to finagle a way to get someone to nominate me as a fashion basket case who needs the tough love direction and $5,000 provided by TLC’s What Not to Wear. No one has ever seemed interested in making this dream of mine come true, so I have to make do with just watching others get transformed. I love this show because it is the perfect combo of “it’s what on the inside that really matters” (ie, everyone leaves feeling a surge in their confidence and take-on-the-worldness) and “it’s what’s on the outside that really matters” (ie, if you stop dressing like a slut/old lady/teenager/truck driver and find the blazer/wrap dress that nips in at your thinnest point, then the world is yours for the taking). I would like to say that true confidence has nothing to do with how you look, but I want nothing more than a session with Stacy, Clinton and Carmindy (I’ll pass on Nick Arojo, I never trust what he does with Black hair) to transform my life.
(I heart Stacy, Clinton and Carmindy.)
Anyway, because What Not to Wear is my cable TV-equivalent of a breakthrough session with a therapist, I wanted to trust in TLC’s new show, How to Look Ten Years Younger. Not possible. It is at times cruel (when they force people into a plexiglass case out in blinding daylight and have strangers say what is wrong with them), at times barbaric (a chemical peel, waxing, electrolysis and botox all-in-one session) and most times, it seems to gloss over all of the love yourself feel-goodness of What Not to Wear and just focuses on getting someone to whiten their teeth, unnaturally smooth out wrinkles and dress “better” (quotes needed based on some of the fashion monstrosities I’ve seen passed off as improvements).
Is it just me or is this show like asking Nicole Kidman to be your self-help coach?