{"id":117928,"date":"2026-10-20T20:01:52","date_gmt":"2026-10-21T00:01:52","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/graziamagazine.com\/us\/?post_type=articles&p=117928"},"modified":"2026-10-20T11:46:41","modified_gmt":"2026-10-20T15:46:41","slug":"its-a-long-story-grazia-usa-fall-winter-2026-issue","status":"publish","type":"articles","link":"https:\/\/graziamagazine.com\/us\/articles\/its-a-long-story-grazia-usa-fall-winter-2026-issue\/","title":{"rendered":"It’s a Long Story"},"content":{"rendered":"
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A model walks the runway at the Etro fashion show during the Milan Fashion Week. (Getty Images)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

When my hair starts getting accidentally tucked into the back of my high-waisted jeans, I know it\u2019s time for a trim. And by trim, I mean what hairstylists call \u201ca dusting.\u201d Once, during said dusting, the editorial hairdresser Kevin Mancuso smirked, \u201cYou better be careful, or your hair\u2019s going to get caught in the escalator at Barneys<\/a>.\u201d This should give you an indication of my age, since I, like many of my Generation X cohorts, spent my post-collegiate days in New York City hanging out at the famed (now devastatingly defunct) specialty store. They say one should cut their hair once they reach a certain decade. But to that, I say \u2026 not on your life. And this life is mine.<\/span>I\u2019ve been acutely aware of my hair since I was a small child. Growing up as a redhead forges a strong personality and a distinct self-consciousness that stems from having a mane that\u2019s decidedly different. As legend has it, I even popped out of the womb with, as my raven-haired mother liked to recall, orange kinks all over my head. My childhood was spent with my long locks plaited into a butt-length braid, the bottom third left loose, like an impressionist\u2019s lush paintbrush. At 14, I got recruited by a local hair salon to join a blonde-brunette-redhead trio of roller-skating hair models. Every Saturday, I dutifully showed up at 9 a.m. to have my hair washed, blown-dry, and set into a voluminous tumble of waves that caught the attention of every passerby in town. It was the best job I ever had.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you can have hair that\u2019s this long and thick and healthy, why not show it off?!\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

While nipple-length was my go-to before the pandemic, months in lockdown led to letting my hair grow \u2026 and grow. I liked to say that I got the last best haircut in New York City before the world shut down. I had snagged a coveted appointment with my hair guru at the time, Serge Normant<\/a>, on March 12, 2020 \u2014 the day before my last day in the office. Serge is not just any hairstylist. He is the mane man behind Hollywood\u2019s best tressed; think Sarah Jessica Parker<\/a>, Julia Roberts, Amal Clooney, Cindy Crawford, you name it. Picture any major \u201890s glamazon image with hair filling the frame, and chances are Serge created the look. I always loved sitting in his chair, because unlike other stylists who would eye my length judgmentally and try to bully me into cutting, say, a lob<\/i>, Serge\u2019s love for extra-long hair matched my own. \u201cLet\u2019s just snip an inch, an inch-and-a-half,\u201d he\u2019d say. \u201cIf you can have hair that\u2019s this long and thick and healthy, why not show it off?!\u201d<\/p>\n

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A model walks the runway at the Simone Rocha Ready to Wear Fall\/Winter 2026-2027 fashion show. (Getty Images)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Six years later, my strands are not the only thing that\u2019s grown; so has my Samson-like conviction that my strength, my zhuzh, lies in my locks. My hair has become my defining characteristic \u2014 and my point of differentiation. And I\u2019d be lying if I didn\u2019t admit that also, keeping my hair megalong has become my armor; a bit of rebellion against the trope that women of a certain age should go for the big chop. We are told \u2014 gently at first, and then with increasing urgency \u2014 that, as we age, our hair must retreat. It must shorten. It must become more manageable, ordered, age-appropriate. The unspoken message is that devil-may-care hair belongs to youth. There\u2019s an implication, a sort-of social contract, that as we age we should choose efficiency over romance, practicality over wildness. But I am deeply uninterested in this trade. And I\u2019ve never been one to follow convention or alter my appearance to satisfy the hegemony.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m not alone in my zeal. I belong to a secret society, a sisterhood, of quiet power brokers who refuse to live by the hair rules. A ballet dancer in her youth, Laura Regensdorf<\/a>, 42, a beauty writer for the New York Times,<\/i> had to keep her hair extra long. \u201cWhen I was a kid, you almost couldn\u2019t cut your hair because you needed to be able to pull it back into a bun for uniformity\u2019s sake,\u201d she says. But today, the lustrous strands that graze the top of her thighs hold an entirely different meaning. \u201cThere\u2019s a resoluteness in the maintenance,\u201d she says, matter-of-factly. Plus, now, her hair actually sets her apart. \u201cI think I\u2019m a quiet person otherwise, who doesn\u2019t usually walk into a room and tell the loudest story \u2014 so there\u2019s something kind of powerful to have a signature that speaks for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

For others, the feminine mystique of exaggeratedly lengthy locks \u2014 akin to the women depicted in Renaissance paintings like Botticelli\u2019s Birth of Venus<\/i> \u2014 is a gateway to reclaiming the feeling of lost youth that can be synonymous with mid-life and perimenopause. My friend Melissa Green Hewitt<\/a>, a fragrance industry executive, shakes her waist-length mane of strawberry blonde ripples over a glass of wine, the ends narrowly avoiding an anointing in merlot. \u201cIt makes me feel younger, it makes me feel more sensual,\u201d says the 50-year-old of her epic hair. \u201cI grew it after my divorce,\u201d she confides. \u201cAnd it made me feel more like myself. I was finding my light again. It made me shine.\u201d<\/p>\n

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A model walks the runway at the Chlo\u00e9 Womenswear Fall\/Winter 2026-2027 show. (Photo by Marc Piasecki\/WireImage)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

From Chloe to Simone Rocha, that kind of ownership of self-assured femininity was all over the runways this season, too. And on screen, undone, ethereal Hamnet<\/i>-core hair was as much a part of Jessie Buckley\u2019s awards season-sweeping portrayal of Agnes as her nonconforming red dress. Here, untamed tresses became the embodiment of a woman both wild and soft, passionate and knowing, keen, yet unabashedly capable. Truly a representation of fully expressed, brave, untethered womanhood.<\/p>\n

\u201cLong hair is a superpower,\u201d says celebrity hairstylist and TikTok-favorite Clayton Hawkins. \u201cAnd if you\u2019re over 40 and have a healthy, glorious mane, rock on.\u201d Indeed, some women choose to keep their hair long simply because they can. At a wedding in Miami a month ago, I found myself behind a gorgeous goddess waiting to go through security at the venue. From my rear view, she was wearing a one-shoulder gown that looked spectacular and had thick, luxurious, flaxen tresses that were practically to her bum. When we came face-to-face at cocktail hour, martinis in hand, I was awestruck by her 74-year-old face etched with beautiful experience. Has she ever thought about cutting her hair, I asked? She offered a one-word answer with a sly shrug, unapologetically: \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

Why are we demanded to be one thing or another? I defy those tired tropes like I avoid scissors. I choose to not choose to fit into any picture of who I should be or how I should move through this world, now or ever. In my fifth decade, what I want has come sharply into focus \u2014 and that just happens to be the swish of unbridled freedom, cascading with lightness down my back.<\/p>\n

Read the Fall\/Winter Issue of GRAZIA USA featuring cover star Louisa Jacobson:<\/h4>\n