The updo is back

From The Guardian:

"Buns and chignons are so much more elegant than long, tumbling hair. We welcome the return of grownup hairstyles

Long, bouncy, tumbling, just-had-a-blow-dry hair has for some years been to a certain type of woman what a gold Rolex has always been to a certain type of man: an instantly identifiable calling card of wealth and success. This is because – newsflash! – not many women are born with hair that grows skywards for an inch at the root, falls perfectly straight to the jaw, and then loops itself into demi-waves at the end. That kind of hair requires professional blow-drying, probably using expensive Japanese hair straighteners and quite possibly with extensions underneath.

Well, goodbye to all that, and welcome to a new era of kirby grips and dry shampoo. Girlish, loose hair is being edged out of the spotlight in favour of a new look: the grownup, serious updo. Mad Men's glamorous styles – and, in particular, Joan Holloway's siren-red updo – are this catwalk season's premier style reference. Chignons and buns, hitherto dismissed as the dowdy retirement-home options of a barnet past its prime, have made a resounding comeback. At the most recent Prada catwalk show in Milan, models in bosomy bustiers and below-the-knee full skirts were given scaled-up versions of severe-librarian-style updos. Giles Deacon gave his models an inflated, circular beehive with a soft, marshmallow texture; at Yves Saint Laurent, scraped-back hair was augmented with an enormous, chelsea bun sized twist on the back of the head.

Personally, as someone who has never had either the funds, time or inclination (never mind all three) to schedule weekly salon appointments and whose natural hair categorically does not bounce or tumble, I am more than happy to see the back of blow-dry tyranny. But this is not, it must be said, any kind of age of austerity. I was half-lying about the kirby grips. While it is perfectly possible, with practice, to do these styles yourself, it is not merely a matter of reviving old scrape, twist and spray techniques vaguely remembered from childhood ballet exams.

Jo Cree Browne, artistic director at Trevor Sorbie, points out that 'the shape and the scale have to be exaggerated. That's what makes it cool, and not just granny hair.' Flick through any of this month's glossy magazines, and take a look at the new Prada campaign, in which the models' heads are almost doubled in size thanks to their giant chignons. Luke Hersheson, the hairstylist responsible for many a hot cover look or catwalk trend, specifies that 'the height and volume has to be at the back now. Height at the front, that looks old.'

The bewitching aesthetic of Mad Men has introduced a new generation to the joys of pinning one's hair up. 'There are different versions worn by different characters,' points out Ian Florey, master stylist at Charles Worthington. 'Christina Hendricks [who plays Joan] is a bit Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's, and then January Jones [who plays Betty] is a bit more Bardot.' And even before Mad Men hit our screens, Amy Winehouse had been subverting the traditional connotations of the beehive, and Kate Moss has been wearing her hair in a very simple bun for major events – receptions at Buckingham Palace, the British fashion awards – for at least six years.

Mad Men's popularity is also a symptom of our fascination with the look and feel of the late 1950s and early 1960s. Think of Julianne Moore in A Single Man, set in 1962, and the diva-ish, Liz Taylor proportions of her hairdo; or of Michelle Obama's Kennedy-era sartorial references. 'The 1960s sexy, messy updo has been around for a while,' says Hersheson. 'What's new this season is that the look has gone back a few years. It's a bit more 1950s. It is a look that projects respectability, and seriousness.' (This might be why Naomi Campbell chose it for her appearance at the Hague last week.) 'It's for a girl who wants to look like a woman,' says Hersheson.

But in an industry still obsessed with youth, can the updo survive the stigma of being associated with the not-so-young? In the film Up, Ellie Fredricksen, late wife of the curmudgeonly hero, is depicted with her hair in a neat, grey, bagel-sized bun, a cartoonish image of an old lady. Most of the hairstylists I spoke to said that the women experimenting with super-sized chignons were their younger clients.

Although dramatic, these styles are, says Cree Browne, 'a more attainable look' than the Manhattan blow-out ideal. Last year's furore over Cheryl Cole advertising hair products while wearing extensions demonstrated how unrealistic our expectations of long hair had become. A chignon or a 'cinnamon bun' – as they more poetically call the 'doughnut' in America – may take some effort to achieve but once done it will last all day and evening.

'And I like that it's honest,' says Hersheson. 'It is blatantly not effortless, and I'm over that whole faux-effortless thing. This is grownup hair, and grownup attitude.'"

The last line kills me, but all of it is great, great, great. I found myself, contrary to all expectation, cheering at a trend in hair fashion. But if Mad Men's retro chic of updos and fedoras makes possible movies like A Single Man and An Education, I'll cheer them all.