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Mohawks
The Mohawk stands out, and up, in a crowd, a screaming testimonial about the person wearing it. Just ask Mr. T, whose image is indelibly linked to the style.
By SHARON FINK
Published October 9, 2006
Oh, Mr. T. That bling. That bark. That Mohawk. Of all the things that combined to make Lawrence Tureaud one of the most iconic figures of the '80s, the hair gets the most credit. He wasn't the first bellowing guy with a catch phrase. And though he was the precursor to the jewel-dripping rappers, at the time he looked like just a cartoon version of every guy who ever strapped on a few gold chains and thought he was the sex symbol the world had been waiting for. Mr. T's hair is what made him. In the early '80s, the Mohawk was the revolutionary symbol du jour, the spiked-up, glued together, rock-hard head topper of skinny white kids into punk music. Appropriated by a larger-than-life African-American pro wrestler who had muscles as hard as his hair and who could beat Johnny Rotten in a snarl-off any day, the Mohawk became the decade's version of the crew cut. Wrestling-crazy kids loved it. Adults thought it made them hip and edgy. 'Hawks even showed up on dogs. After punk simmered down and Mr. T's A-Team had run its course on TV, the Mohawk went the way of another high-topping, rock-hard construction, the beehive. It became seen as a novelty 'do, something for punk holdouts, skateboarders and athletes looking for a rebel image. But the Mohawk is turning out to age much better than the beehive. David Beckham, noted British fashion plate and one of the best soccer players in the world, sported one for a while in 2003 he moved on to a "fauxhawk," a full head of hear with a spiky strip down the middle. Its profile picked up more last year when a real 'hawk appeared on one of the world's most photographed 3-year-olds, Angelina Jolie's son, Maddox. Then the '80s revival kicked in. And America's sport of choice, football, got a talented, trash-talking 'hawk hawker: Chad Johnson of the National Football League's Cincinnati Bengals (he even dyed his strip of black hair blond). The resurgence can be seen in the Tampa Bay area not only at the expected music venues, high schools and coffee houses, but on kids hanging out at the malls and even in elementary schools. Mathew Cain, 24, of St. Petersburg and his fabulous purple 'hawk even made a St. Petersburg Times social-scene report last week, his picture alongside one of a man in a tux. Cain has had a Mohawk for about five years. He was influenced by different things, he said, including fashion and death-rock music. "I like the attention it brings," he said. "I'm addicted to it." He does his own styling and will customize for a specific event. (The purple was done for an art-centric AIDS benefit; one of the organizers asked him to help out and do his hair in light, bright, "up" colors.) Cain has noticed the number of Mohawks in the bay area growing. He credits the Internet. Cain's MySpace page has several pictures of his 'hawk stylings, and he said he gets two or three messages a day on it asking him how he does it. "Everyone has so much access now," he said. "If you see a picture of someone else with a look and you want it, you can get it." The Internet might be the thing that keeps the Mohawk from fading away again. That, and fans like Mr. T and Mr. Cain. "I'll probably have it until it doesn't look good on me anymore," Cain said. Mr. T would surely say that's not even a possibility. At least not for Mr. T. Sharon Fink can be reached at (727) 893-8525 or fink@sptimes.com.
[Last modified October 8, 2006, 19:55:18]
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