It's true. It's not something I'm proud of.
Very few pictures of the fauxhawk still exist. I will not post any of them here.
It was a Friday in early 2004 that my Scottish hairstylist Carol Ann said to me in her unforgettable overpriced broguish drawl "maybe we should give you a fauxhawk." I had never heard the term. It was months before it crashed the mainstream. I thought she was saying something else. When she was done with me, I was pleased with the result. I looked cool. I looked good. I looked forward thinking.
At first it was a faux-fauxhawk. After a few days of my trademarked rapid kinky hair growth, this newfangled style wasn't noticeable - it was just my normal mass of brown on my larger-than-normal head.
On subsequent haircuts through most of 2005, Carol Ann began to experiment some more. The cut became more hawk, less faux. There are pictures of me in early 2006 (available on a secret thumb drive if anyone's interested) that display this haircut in its full ridiculousness. In some of the photos, I'm wearing a pompously loud lavender shirt from The Gap.
In early 2006, I broke the news to Carol Ann that the experiment was over, that it had failed. She acquiesced and gave me something more mainstream. I then left Santa Monica and began getting my hair cut by American women on the east side.
Eventually, I opted for (and alternated) the same two hairstyles I got for two decades before the Scottish woman got her Robbie Williams-loving experimental scissors on me: (1) short all-the-way around, exposing my masculine head shape and consistent hairline (this style is utilitarian, as wives or girlfriends are perfectly capable of performing the haircut); or (2) short everywhere except for a spiky tously top (definitively not a mullet nor a fauxhawk, this haircut doesn't look good in its first few days but rocks between days 6 and 18.)