Business in the front, party in the back | Jack Marshall's column

I've had six haircuts in the past 14 months.

By Jack Marshall, Reporter
Monday, 24th May 2021, 10:27 am
Welcome to flavour country
Welcome to flavour country

Two were shoddy buzzcuts by my own unsteady hand - this was back in the days of the first lockdown. Three were far more professional efforts conducted by a barber who didn't have to contort himself into weird shapes mid-trim.

The final one was the greatest of them all.

A mullet.

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Gerry Francis’ Wikipedia page used to contain the sublime line ‘To this day, Gerry remains devoted to his mullet haircut, which he has worn for decades.’ I now empathise deeply with Gerry’s hirsute fidelity: the mullet is brilliant. And it’s making a comeback for a reason.

The genesis of my own mullet can be traced back to my relationship with my younger brother. We are very alike and get on like a house on fire owing to the fact that it seems we share a brain (and brain cells, if you asked plenty of people who know us).

A brief aside: we’re so weirdly alike that we both, completely independently, got really into Hall & Oates recently. About a week into listening to When the Morning Comes on repeat, I got a text from him asking if I’d ever heard of Daryl Hall and John Oates because they had some absolute bangers and I should check them out.

I genuinely could not believe it. Like I say, the *same* brain. But, back to the mullets.

Last year, just as the barbers closed in December, conversation turned to mullets. Wouldn’t it be funny if we got mullets, we joked. They actually look pretty good, we admitted. We could see how long our hair gets and try it out, we agreed.

Five months later, boasting an abundance of lockdown locks to work with, we both took the plunge. Welcome to flavour country.

Any regrets? Not a single one.

People love the mullet. The feedback, save for my mother’s slightly more disappointed and despairing review of her adult son’s stupid trim, has been glowing. And there’s a very particular feeling of liberation which comes with whipping a damp mullet back and forth as you get out the shower, is all I’ll say.

As the saying goes: business at the front, party at the back.