Hair Quotes
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With modelling, a lot happens behind the scenes; all the fittings and hair and makeup. Then the runway takes two minutes - you just walk out and come back in!
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A lot of people have said that I'm trying to be like Justin Bieber by wearing a hat all the time. But the truth is, I don't like the way my hair looks. It's kind of weird, so I wear a hat all the time to cover it. I've been doing it since I was thirteen.
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People assume NFL cheerleaders are within some vague sniffing distance of the good life, but a Ben-Gal is paid seventy-five bucks per game. That is correct: seventy-five bucks for each of ten home games. The grand cash total per season does not keep most of them flush in hair spray, let alone gas money to and from practice.
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I'm not a girly girl. I don't brush my hair.
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Actresses are so spoilt - we have someone who does our hair for us on set, so we don't know how to do it ourselves in real life. I know how to wash my hair and brush my teeth, but that's about it!
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My hair - it's baby thin and feathery and drives me crazy no matter what I do with it. It's weird because you see people with thicker hair that just kind of stays put, but if I'm in any sort of weather, I look like Bill Murray in 'Kingpin' when it starts to all come unleashed.
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I felt like calling attention to AIDS. I had the AIDS ribbon colored into my hair during the playoffs in '95.
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I knew I was Chinese, but growing up, it never occurred to me that that had any particular implication or that it should differentiate me in any way. I thought it was a minor detail, like having red hair.
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I liked to dye my hair as a teenager. I dyed it a lot of different colours: blue, red, pink.
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Soon he’ll be wearing shorts and growing his hair out, and the transformation will be complete.
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Saturday night is when my hair would be fixed up and that was my memory.
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I use my Bionic flat iron and hair dryer, all shampoo and conditioners are sulfate free, and keep the blow-drys to a minimum. If I can go two to three or even four days without washing my hair, I'll just go for it. I know, sounds gross, but otherwise, I'd be frying my hair.
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The rich are different. Their wants are very high maintenance. They'll pick eye color and hair color, all the way down to what she does for a living, what school she went to. Their list can be extremely long. But at the end of the day, dating is dating, because they're human beings.
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This is the first day of the rest of my life. So why is my hair sticking up like a cockerel?
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I think anytime with your mom, whether she's famous or not, you're watching what she's doing when you're growing up. She also taught me the basics: Make sure you use a good moisturizing shampoo and conditioner, and then use a detangler to comb through your hair. And don't overdo the heat styling.
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On the red carpet, I'm playing a character. As soon as I get off that thing, I think, 'Oof, wipe that gloss off.' I'm wiping and wiping and pulling my hair out and trying to change my outfit. I'm immediately trying to get comfortable. It's really a part I play.
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Hair extensions and wigs are not the same thing. Wigs are for old ladies and drag queens. Extensions are for women who want longer hair. To be safe, never bring it up if you think a woman is wearing either. No good comes of it.
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I dressed as the Riddler once, when I was little too heavy to do. I would wear tights. My brother was in a hair metal band, and he had Riddler tights made. My brother's a geek, but he was in a heavy metal band, so I'm a chubby fifteen-year-old, and I borrow his Riddler tights and wear them to school with the package. That wasn't a good idea.
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Milton Ashe is not the type to marry a head of hair and a pair of eyes.
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As soon as I got into country music, it was like hook, line and sinker. I was so focused on country, I ended up leaving all those '80s hair-band CDs behind - which now I still wish I had, but I was done with it.
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I have a friend who wanted to practise on my head because they wanted to be a stylist. So I offered what hair I had left to turn white.
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I hate the only one of my book jackets when I was made up professionally, my hair made into a smooth bell.
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I have this lock of hair that keeps falling across my forehead. It drives me mad.
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I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
