Cut the Trendy Hair Routine: Common Sense Gets Too Much Off the Top

Y ou told the hairdresser exactly what you wanted, or at least you thought you did. But somehow your head ended up looking like an old dish scrubber.

But wait! What if you wanted it to look like that? What if that look makes you feel just swell about your appearance? And what if it makes your sweetie run screaming into the night?

Or . . . what if you gave the hairdresser the go-ahead for a bit of tonsorial radicalism--hey, it was a full moon and it seemed like a good idea at the time--and you’re the one ready to dial 911?

Is the big switch to a current, stylish, science-fiction hair style worth it?

HE: Not for me. Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that I suddenly lost my mind and went to my barber and asked to have my gray hair dyed a menacing jet black and molded into spikes. The first consequence would be loss of my barber and probably lots of bruises from him justifiably trying to pummel me to gruel.

Second, my neighbors would throw rocks at me, after calling the police and putting their homes up for sale. Third, I would probably be pursued by twitching, black-clad, neuron-challenged young women with railroad spikes driven through their earlobes who would beg me to become the leader of their new cult of goat worshipers.

Moral: Find a haircut that suits you and radically deviate from it at your peril.

SHE: I’d rather fight than switch. A suitable haircut is my problem . My hairdo--medium-length with bangs and a modicum of curl--has been my style for eight years.

I like it because it goes everywhere with everything. The problem? It doesn’t take any risks.

If it didn’t take me months to grow it out (the same old excuse), I’d have followed the herd and gone for the latest, ultra-short style. Short hair has always been my best look.

HE: I suppose I’m unlike a lot of men, because the length of a woman’s hair really doesn’t matter to me (most guys will say they like it long and luxurious, unless their short-haired wife or girlfriend is listening).

My single criterion is softness. Short hair’s perfectly fine, as long as it has a certain tactile sense about it. Anything terribly gimmicky or contrived or--the worst--mindlessly trendoid, just indicates to me a lack of self-knowledge. Why look ghastly simply for the sake of fashion when you could look terrific with a cut that suits you?

Guys, of course, have become offenders, too, as you know.

SHE: I’ve had my eyes on actor Daniel Day-Lewis’ mane for the past couple of years. Now, there’s a face that can wear an assortment of hairstyles. In “My Left Foot,” it was perfectly tousled and boyish looking. In “The Last of the Mohicans,” it was long, sleek and streamlined. In “The Age of Innocence,” it was trim and sophisticated. My point: Variety keeps us looking new (of course, it helps to have an entire makeup department at your bidding).

I really should do something different. How would you like my hair a la Susan Powter’s, you know, the “Stop the Insanity” exercise guru whose hair is as short as a putting green? Does softness count on that one?

HE: Yeah, her hair’s about as soft as the bottom of a track shoe. Actually, I don’t think it’s quite as short as a putting green. I figure I could hit a pretty clean wedge shot from it (oops! sorry about the divot . . . ). If she’s going for the robo-hooker-from-hell look, I say she’s got it perfected. Talk to her about giving longer hair a chance, and she’ll scream about male oppression and go looking for a crowbar.

SHE: Actually, it suits her profession and her personality perfectly. She’s a no-nonsense type who won’t be a slave to anything (food or hair). I hear she has it cut every three days!

I respect her guts. I care too much about what people think to go extremo, and I hate myself for it.

My fave look on a man? The classic just-below-the-ear style that is a little on the layered side. The look I love to hate? Hair as fried as a plate of calamari.

HE: Men approaching a certain age have a couple of fairly unique considerations: 1) What color is my hair going to end up, and 2) Do I get to keep it?

Both of these eventualities can have a powerful effect on haircut possibilities. Gray-haired punkers, for instance, don’t quite project the necessary gonzo credibility. And male-pattern baldness plays hell with any dreams of the Jerry Lewis Vaseline look.

The solution: Get a good barber (a good one) and ask his advice.

SHE: Be glad you guys don’t have to play the “bad hair day” sweepstakes. Your barbers determine how your hair is going to look, and we have hormones .

On a good hair day, our locks can look like Farrah Fawcett’s did in her prime--all flowing and thick and softer than velvet.

But give us a nose-dive in our estrogen level and we can look like a plate of, well, unfried calamari.