Don't Touch the Hair

This morning, as I was cruising around the internets, I stumbled upon this:

This, for those of you not in the know, is the boy band One Direction, responsible for the earworm known as "What Makes You Beautiful", a song about a boy who finds a girl's shitty self-image to be really hot.

What gets me about this picture is not the fact that they look like a unicultural United Colors of Benetton ad that I would have found in Seventeen magazine as a teenager.

It's the hair.

I just...I can't...I'm not...

WHAT is up with the douchebag hair? 

And I was all ready to make fun of them and their douchebag hair when suddenly...

I remembered the 90's:

 

Hi, I'm Brandon and I'm a know-it-all gambling addict, but chicks dig my hair.

Hi, I'm Dylan and I'm a moody alcoholic/drug addict, but chicks dig my hair.

While Brandon and Dylan certainly owned stock in a far less scandalous mile-high club, they had nothing on these guys:

We are totally hangin' tough. 

Apparently there's something about a young teenage girl that makes her oblivious to just how ridiculous the object of her 14 year old desire actually looks.

Exhibit A (or, "My Favorite New Kid"):

This is Joe.  He's a Capricorn. He regularly pleaded with me, "Please don't go, girl," but he was competing with algebra homework, appointments for spiral perms, and getting my braces tightened. Pretty sure I ruined his whole world.

However, at some point, this guy started to catch my eye (I don't know, it might have had something to do with hormones.  Just a guess.):

This is Jordan.  He promised that he'd be lovin' me forever, and boys don't ever lie about that stuff. Also, he started singing with his shirt unbuttoned while a ginormous fan tried to blow him off stage. It was very hot.  

So I suppose there's not much I can say about One Direction and their birds-could-nest-in-this-shit-and-you'd-never-even-know hair.

Except:

Style it while you've got it, boys. 

'Cause it ain't yours to keep.