Unless you spent the 1990s in a box (or without a TV) then you should be familiar with the Rachel. Created by stylist Chris McMillan in 1994 for Jennifer Aniston when she played Rachel Green in Friends, the mid-length, layered bob has become as synonymous with the 1990s as grunge. The fact that the cut, cultivated through artful feathering and blow-dries, was actually a “shag” in all but name probably explains its ubiquity - around 11 million women had it. For Aniston, however, it all got a bit self-referential. “I think it was the ugliest haircut I’ve ever seen,” she told Allure magazine recently Photograph: Rex Features
Kate Middleton’s mane has become one of the most sought-after styles of the past year. Which is odd because, surely, it’s not really anything except chestnut, shiny and aspirational-looking. Like Cheryl Cole’s, but less cartoonish. Wrong! The mane may look sensible (dull); timeless (dull) and conformist, which can be a good thing, but it’s actually a mind-blowingly complex style, involving “individual strands pin-curled and blown-dry into curls,” says her hairdresser, Richard Ward. Wow. Sadly, Valentino isn’t a fan. “She can’t keep her hair,” he bellowed, evidently still smarting from not getting the wedding dress gig Photograph: Dan Kitwood/Getty Images
While the bob was introduced to the fashionscape by 1920s actress Louise Brooks (above), it was Vidal Sassoon who regenerated it as a geometrically, asymmetric, five-point adaptation called the shape in 1963. Hong Kong-born actress Nancy Kwan came to be defined by hers – cut at an acute angle, it flattered the face in a way Brook’s gamine slice never could. It was chic, eccentric, and almost-boyish, working wonders for the feminist movement. The bob has enjoyed various revivals since, including Rihanna’s recent arresting, red slash of hair and Victoria Beckham’s pob Photograph: Allstar
As seen on everyone from cartoon Marge Simpson, singers Amy Winehouse (above) and Ronnie Spector to Jersey Shore’s Snooki. The beehive was created in 1960 by Chicago-based stylist Margaret Vinci Heldt at the behest of Modern Beauty Salon magazine, which was after a look to reflect the coming decade.The beehive did more than that. The sculpted, rounded rush of height dragged the 1950s sexual coyness onwards and upwards, like a feminist fistpunch. The fact that all-black girl group the Supremes favoured the look only added to its progressive symbolism Photograph: Dave Hogan/Getty Images
To some, this two-tiered look is more than a cut: it represents celibacy and promiscuity, conformity and rebellion, masculinity and femininity. In her book, Splitting Hairs, Mimi Pond explains the short top is man’s ego, the cascading locks, his id. To most, however, the mullet is just plain wrong. Still, it’s been around for a while. The Egyptians were the first to wear wigs cut in a mullet-shape, while a sixth-century Byzantine group also adopted the cut. Millennia later, it crept on to the crowns of Romantics such as poet Coleridge, broadcaster Pat Sharpe (above) and 80% of Journey. Last year, the cut was banned in Iran, deemed “too decadent”. Lucky Iran Photograph: Clive Dixon /Rex Features
Though dreadlocks have been long worn by many African tribes, notably the Masai, they are most closely associated with the Jamaican Rastafari movement, which adopted the matted coils as an expression of their faith. Rastafarian singer Bob Marley (above) popularised the look in the 1970s. Dreadlocks are still one of the most culturally weighted hairstyles – an outward expression of rebellion. Modern salons have even developed the “dread perm”, a sort of backcomb-cum-chemical treatment. Dreadlocks on white men can be a problem: Pete Burns had his ripped off by a gang of black children in Liverpool Photograph: Denis O'Regan/Getty Images
Starting with the 50s’ rockabilly pompadours, the quiff gained real status with the rise of rock’n’roll, with both music and hair shaking the traditional sensibilities of the mainstream. The look then segued into the aesthetic fabric of the Teddyboy subculture and Morrissey (above), whose own long, sweeping plume was poached by anyone left of the middle. One adopter was The Word’s Mark Lamarr who sported his lacquered, Tintin-esque peak for decades. Holding gel is paramount. Although egg-white, Vaseline and yak butter have all proved wind-proof, singer Chris Isaak recommends “grease” Photograph: Rex Features
During the first world war, women wore their hair short for practical reasons – and curls were an easy alternative to a crop. The perm subsequently became a symbol of suffragism. It has since spawned many versions – notably the soft wave and bubble-perm. Frenchman Marcel Grateau perfected the thermal perm in 1872 using heated tongs; in 1906 Karl Nessler made a machine using a frightening blend of sodium hydroxide and 100C steel rods. Thankfully, modern perms are generally cold and risk-free. Still, nothing can excuse Kevin Keegan’s mossy bundle (above) that moved with unnerving bounce on the pitch Photograph: Rex Features/Rex Features
On paper, a peculiarity; but a scientific breakthrough for older women. It was actress Jean Harlow’s love of platinum hair that started it in the 1930s. After bleaching her hair, she would rinse it with methylene blue to take out the yellow and create the desired white effect. According to hair historian Caroline Cox, “by 1932 sales of peroxide had zoomed, up 35% in America alone” thus igniting the rise of the blue rinse. This method of diffusing the brassiness became commonplace among ladies of a certain age who used the same method to reduce the yellow appearance of greying hair. To wit: the Queen and Mrs Slocombe (above) Photograph: BBC
The North American Mohawk tribe grew their hair long, believing it created a connection to their “creator”, but warriors heading off to war would cut the sides to stubble-length, leaving a three-finger-wide strip of hair in the centre. The cut has turned up throughout history as a way of externalising its wearer’s rage: the angry anti-establishment punks in the late 1970s wore their hair urgently high and coloured, and Robert De Niro sported a terrifying post-Vietnam barnet in Taxi Driver. The Mohawk has since mutated into the fin or fauxhawk, last seen on a David Beckham in 2007 Photograph: Nils Jorgensen/Rex Features
