Gather around brethren, for I am about to impart knowledge garnered from the 1970s with a heavy heart by use of that popular beat combo The Hollies and in particular that slave to fashion who was their frontman, Allan Clarke.
You see them above in 1975 singing one of their huge global hit parade hit records, “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother” and all was fine and dandy in the world, the fashion for men was for strides that were extreeeeemely tight around the crotch and waist, as demonstrated by Mr Clarke (above), but which flared out suddenly and in dramatic fashion from the knee to a width exceeding the wearers foot at the bottom of the leg.
I’m not sure where Mr Clarke got away with not wearing a shirt underneath his Budgie-style jacket for I don’t recall that being any part of any sort of fashion in this temperate climate, but its to his hair that we must turn for this valuable life-lesson and in order to demonstrate this more succinctly I must now refer you to another Hollies video filmed just one year earlier in 1974…
Notice the difference ?
Yes, Mr Clarke has his “normal” hair on, neatly coiffed it is true, but his normal hair none the less.
Now fast forward again to 1975 and the “He Ain’t Heavy” video – what on earth did he think he was doing, who the hell did he think he looked like ?
The Fashion, Ladies and Gentlemen, “The Fashion”, this is what happens when men follow “The Fashion”, for when men follow “the Fashion” they inevitably end up looking like twats.
I knew someone in 1975, for the sake of anonymity lets call him Brian, for Brian was indeed his real name.
Until 1975 Brian, like Allan Clarke, had his normal hair, it was blond and if truth be told it was a little on the thin side but that was ok because in those days you could grow your hair as long as you liked and long hair would hide a multitude of male pattern baldness syndrome sins, so Brian grew his hair long and no-one thought any more of the fact that his hair was thinning at the age of 20 years, we were a tolerant lot.
And then, sometime early in 1975 Brian turned up at the football club one night with a hairstyle that could only be called “Kevin Keegan”.
I nearly passed me cigs around.
He stood in the doorway looking for the joke with a puzzled expression for he could not for the life of him work out what the funny thing was that everyone was clutching their ribs in abject amusement at, not even pointing to his head whilst wiping away the tears of mirth from ones face got the message home, Brian had converted his head to the Kevin Keegan school of coiffure and in doing so had made a twat of himself.
And so dear reader, did Allan Clarke.
Two years later Brian returned to the hairdresser who had done so much to lower his self esteem to the gutter and paid more money to have his hair straightened by use of powerful chemicals and in doing so managed to kill off what remained, the result of which was even funnier than when he’d been “Keegan’d”.