Somebody once asked me how I found Peter Jackson, and I said: 'Well, I parted his hair, and there he was.'
I understand that if I really need my hair to be nice, now I hire someone to do it, and I understand that putting on a pair of heels really makes a difference.
I definitely believe in type casting. If you're a girl with bleach-blonde hair, everyone automatically thinks 'prom queen, cheerleader.' It just happens.
When I was a teenager, I was really into hair; I dyed it different colours and had loads of haircuts. I shaved my head when I was 17 - it was pretty radical!
In the end, punk inevitably burned itself out and acted as a bridge across which the New Romantics could sashay in their chiffon and glossy hair.
I'm really low maintenance for a girl. I pretty much shower, attempt to fix my hair, throw on some mineral make up, and go.
I hate being mean. I watch those roasts on Comedy Central and they make the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
No, you cannot stop the birds of sorrow from flying over your head, but you can stop them from building nests in your hair.
So when I got to 50 I just thought, Hold on: I'm thin. I've got my hair. I'm well off. I survived, you know.
I'm obsessed with the Clarisonic brush. It actually makes you feel like you've had a facial. It helps prevent ingrown hairs after shaving, too.
Because my hair is colored, I always make sure to find shampoos and conditioners that don't contain sulfates.
I always use dry shampoo, even if my hair isn't oily. It gives me so much texture and that bedhead vibe.
I didn't figure out the makeup or cute hair or clothes until oh, maybe my junior year of high school.
all people start to come apart finally and there it is: just empty ashtrays in a room or wisps of hair on a comb in the dissolving moonlight.
A wartime Minister of Information is compelled, in the national interest, to such continuous acts of duplicity that even his natural hair must grow to resemble a wig.
Because of my job, my hair gets played with a lot on set, so I try to give it little bit of breathing space when I'm not working.
I wouldn't say I'm vain - I'm just in a job where the way you look is important. Well, at least the facelift wasn't vanity, but the hair was.
I never thought that the long haired, bearded guy I married in law school would end up being President.
I wish I were taller and thinner but the hair you can do something about.
And yonder sits a maiden, The fairest of the fair, With gold in her garment glittering, And she combs her golden hair.
Four hoarse blasts of a ship's whistle still raise the hair on my neck and set my feet to tapping.
