Two years ago, the claw’s metal spring rusted and snapped. I owned dozens of clips of various sizes and provenance, and this was the one I almost always grabbed because it was so comfortable and versatile. It was sturdy as hell, too, as it was made of a more flexible plastic that never broke, even after I’d dropped it a million times. The teeth didn’t poke, allowing you to rest the back of your head against a headrest. And instead of standing upright, this one slid in sideways and lay flush against your scalp. Unlike the average claw, this one had a flatter side that gently curved around the head and a domed top that held the hair in place. It looked less like a Venus flytrap and more like a bivalve with asymmetric halves. My favorite was a large claw from the brand French Atelier. The Medusa Heirlooms clip has shorter prongs than the French Atelier’s, but it still holds up all of my hair. ( Alexandre de Paris is 50 years old, and the first luxury hair-accessories brand.) Most of my clips were designed in Korea and made in France, where I’m convinced the best accessories are from. I found it nearly a decade ago at a tiny accessories shop in Manhattan’s Koreatown, Shine 32, where I’d stock up on claw clips that I couldn’t find anywhere else. After years of twisting, clamping, and securing my hair with trusty acetate prongs, I’ve finally settled on a claw type that’s far superior to everything I’ve tried in the past. Hair ties usually feel too tight so I only use them for workout ponytails. For the record, I’m a claw clip devotee because I hate having hair in my face. From actual butterfly-shaped ones to the classic Rachel Green-style clips, I’ve tried them all.
Trends be damned, I’ve been wearing hair claws since the ’90s and have never stopped.
From left to right, top to bottom: My original French Atelier claw and the two new ones Medusa Heirlooms, French Amie, and Parcelona clips.
0 kommentar(er)
