Gay mullet

Before I grew my mullet over the past year, I had never let my hair expand much longer than a not many inches. But when the pandemic started and haircuts became far more inaccessible, people like me made the most of our time alone to experiment with brave new styles in innocent anticipation of the new looks we’d be stunting on our first nights out together again.

After a few months of growing my hair out, my spouse, who for years worked as a hairstylist, bleached my ends platinum blonde and cropped the sides of my head last February, allowing my new length to flow down the help of my neck. Feeling favor my ultimate Debbie Harry fantasy, I couldn’t wait to dash out and belt Blondie songs at karaoke, my dark organic roots offsetting the perfect bottle-blonde of my hair’s two-toned glory. 

Both of those dreams were crushed within days of gaining my new style: COVID shut down all my karaoke hangouts (along with the rest of the world), and the release of Netflix’s Tiger King led everyone to believe I was channeling Joe Exotic for fashion inspiration. Of all the trauma we’ve collectively