![]() It’s not the hair of a wealthy socialite. In any given picture of Delvey attending an exclusive event, her hair isn’t shiny, the ends dead, and the color dull. When the story broke about Anna Delvey, the woman who claimed she was a German heiress, only to con New York’s elite out of hundreds of thousands of dollars, many were quick to point out that Delvey’s hair was a telltale sign that she was not as rich as she claimed to be. It’s no secret that perfect hair is a trademark of those who can afford it. Jenny’s hair was unnaturally blonde and featured a rotation of obvious extensions, limp ends, and choppy bangs that led to publications asking if her character had the worst hair on television. The silky, bouncy hair of Serena and Blair, the latter of whom often punctuated her hairstyles with designer headbands, was juxtaposed against the hair of Brooklynite Jenny Humphrey (Taylor Momsen), who sewed herself knock-offs of the luxury clothes worn by her more affluent classmates. The show followed Upper East Siders Serena van der Woodsen (Blake Lively) and Blair Waldorf (Leighton Meester), who were born with trust funds and heads of hair to match. ![]() They taught me about dividends and taxes and generational wealth, while I also learned about the wealth gap through my friends’ glorious heads of wealthy-looking hair.Īt the same time, Gossip Girl was cementing the wealth gap of hair into pop culture. It was also the beginning of the Great Recession, and my economics, history, and political science teachers thoroughly detailed the privileges afforded by wealth. At this point, I began to see that one’s hair is, in fact, reflective of their socioeconomic status. They only drank certain brands of bottled water and their specificity amazed me, as did their hair-a dance major with a head of the shiniest coiled hair and a sorority sister with blowouts that somehow endured during her worst hangovers. In college, I made friends with girls from wealthy suburbs. But still, I wasn’t yet aware this had any correlation with money. Really, I envied it all: their routines and their hair. I was only allowed to use boxed dye the dimensions of meticulously applied highlights eluded me. The hairdressers didn’t know me, nor I them. I had always gone to the Hair Cuttery, where I sat down in the next available chair. I envied their familiarity with their hairdressers. “I’m going to Theresa after school on Thursday,” they’d say to me. My friends would get highlights done by hairdressers whose names they knew. Several factors converged to ignite my obsession with wealthy-looking hair.
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