Life was easier when my mother was in charge of my hair (don't tell her, I won't admit it). She was an unabashed admirer of this look. Some mouths dropped as I walked into school after a salon visit. That Halloween, I sported Twiggy fake eyelashes, tights, & a Twiggy long shirt (or short dress); I think it was from England. I wish my mother would look at the computer; she'd love this Twiggy site. It was a lot of fun & it did suit me, that style. I returned to it in the 80s when all that hair was being permed...ugh. Not for me. There was a French Elle (there was no other Elle at the time) with a great short cut on the cover--that was it. People nearly passed out when they saw me on a Monday.
I became increasingly self-conscious as the day wore on. People kept walking into my academic department & gasped. Really gasping. I was growing annoyed & touchy with these doltish Americans (yes, I am one). Even "free spirits" said, "Oh but your beautiful hair...." Finally, a professor known for his contentiousness & barbed remarks walked in. I thought, I will scream [expletive deleted] if he says one damn thing. He considered me for just a moment & tilted his head, & said, "Wow. Jean Seberg. Breathless. Wow. Good for you." Turned on his heel & left. No one said another word.
[images via Just Covers/tumblr & the black & white via here.]