From Blorit to Ponytail: Israeli Culture Refl ected in Popular Hairstyles

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CONTINUE READING
Oz Almog

                             From Blorit to Ponytail:
                             Israeli Culture Reflected
                             in Popular Hairstyles¹

                            INTRODUCTION

I  srael’s daily, Ha’aretz has recently been featuring Hanoch Piven’s
collage portraits of international celebrities and Israeli politicians. Piven
uses everyday objects in creating his portraits and although one of his more
striking images consists of little more than two wads of white cotton wool
“hair,” every Israeli recognizes it immediately as a caricature of the country’s
first prime minister, David Ben-Gurion. (See figure 1) An election poster
of the now-defunct ultra-nationalist Tehiya Party featured the silhouette
of a young man bearing a flag. What unmistakably identified this young
man as a proud Sabra—a native-born Israeli—was his tousled hair, but,
even more so, his blorit, that unmistakable, unruly, forelock, falling over
the forehead and catching the breeze.
     Hair has always constituted a important feature of the Israeli image.
Hairstyle, or lack of it, has been emblematic of Israeli identity ever since the
advent of Zionism, and continues to be so today. But while the disheveled
Ben-Gurion-look was once standard, today’s Israelis display a rich variety
of hairstyles, hair colors, and hair lengths.
     Because hair is conspicuous, and because it differs from person to
person, both in its physical and natural aspects (color and texture), and with
regard to culture and fashion (length and style), hair has come to represent
a racial, ethnic, cultural, sub-cultural, or individual badge of identity.
     In this respect, Israel is no different from other cultures, all of which
have their unique customs, rituals, traditions, and fashions that dictate
whether and how people should cut their hair, shave their faces and/or
heads, brush, comb, tie, decorate, style, or cover their hair with a hat,
kerchief, skullcap, or wig.² Sculptures, paintings, photographs, and writ-

                                      82
From Blorit to Ponytail •     83

ings—past and present—testify to the fact that every culture has attached
moral, ritual, and mythological significance to hair. The attitudes toward
hair, and the practices that develop around it, generally reflect a system of
social values regarding body hygiene, sex, aesthetics, gender, class, religion,
and intergenerational relations. Hence, the analysis of hair as a cultural
code or as a collection of codes (whether explicit or implicit) could serve as
an important key to understanding the special character of a given culture
and of the milestones in its processes of change.
      Jewish culture is no exception. The Bible itself associates different kinds
and styles of hair with different characters and personalities. Esau’s red hair
is associated with his appetites, Samson’s long hair, with his strength and
Nazaritic vocation, Absalom’s flowing locks, with his aristocratic beauty.
Jewish religious law also addresses the manner in which hair should be
worn. Men are to keep their heads covered with a hat or skullcap, and ultra-
Orthodox men generally cut their hair short but leave long side-locks, in
keeping with a Biblical injunction. Jewish law also forbids men to shave
themselves with a razor and, as a result, most observant Jews, especially in
ultra-Orthodox circles, sport beards. Orthodox Jewish law requires married
women to keep their hair covered for the sake of modesty.³
      This article aims at surveying the sociological and cultural significance
of the most common hairstyles or haircuts in Israel since its early days. It
is not meant to be a documentary on the business of hairstyling in Israel,
but rather an analysis based on a semiotic examination of the functions of
signs and symbols. My premise is that hair fashion, as indeed all fashion,
can serve as an interesting indicator of changing values in Israeli culture,
but that the hairstyles themselves have, at the same time, played a social
role in the process of changing values—a process I have proceeded to
investigate.
      By and large, this study focuses on the younger generation and the
non-religious segment of the country’s population, because this group
constitutes the majority of Israel’s population and because it is within this
group that the changes have been most pronounced, due to its greater
exposure to outside influences and its resulting susceptibility to dynamic
change in aesthetic, intellectual, and cultural fashion.
      The information on hairstyles was obtained from photographs and
articles published over the past fifty years in Israel’s popular press (especially
the two mass-circulation daily newspapers, Yediot Aharonot and Ma’ariv),
in teen and youth magazines, and in weeklies devoted to recreation,
entertainment, and fashion. Private photograph albums and high school
yearbooks have been another source of information. With my assistants, I
84 • isr ael studies, volume 8, number 2

also conducted field interviews with several key figures in the hairstyling
business.⁴

                            Researching Hair
The role of hair in culture, especially in the context of initiation rites, mar-
riage, mourning, and witchcraft, has long been the subject of much study.⁵
But since hair has usually commanded the interest of anthropologists,
studies were mostly centered on Third World cultures. The role of hair in
western cultures was neglected until the end of the 1960s and early 1970s,
when, with the advent of the flower children and the feminist movement,
the development of semiological studies prompted scholars to study its
meaning.⁶ Studies also began to be made of hair in the context of sexual
behavior and sexual preferences.⁷ In 1987, Anthony Synnot published a
comprehensive, pioneer study on the symbolism of hair in western culture
in which he formulated a “theory of contradictions.”⁸ He claimed that
western cultures use visual opposites in hair fashion in order to empha-
size value contrasts or social distinctions—long versus short, hairy versus
bald, combed versus unkempt, light versus dark, curly versus straight, dyed
versus natural, body hair versus head hair, adorned versus unadorned heads.
According to Synnot, the social distinctions symbolized by hair generally
relate to gender (feminine versus masculine), age (young versus old), the
establishment or its antithesis, the traditional versus the extraordinary;
they are indicative of ideological orientations (religious versus secular), of
affinity (western versus eastern), of aesthetic perception (attractive versus
repulsive, especially in a sexual context). Synnot’s article is novel, in as much
as it attempts to construct a theory focusing on hair and its symbols, and
on hair patterns in North America and Britain.⁹ It was also the first study
that attempted to describe the historical development of hair symbols and
their meaning in the respective cultures. McAlexander & Schouten also
examined hair as a mark of change, but both its research method and the
point of view are entirely different from those of Synnot.¹⁰ In this case, the
two researchers asked 84 college students to write a short account of how
their hairstyles had changed over the course of their lives. The findings
were that the changes in these young people’s hairstyles had coincided with
important social changes and had thus become symbolic of these changes,
both on an individual and on a general level. McAlexander and Schouten
showed in their study how the social significance of symbols—in this
case, of hair symbols—is assimilated into, and serves, the private mean-
ing that the individual attaches to his own life. Liberation from parental
control, integration into the peer group, sexual awareness, status changes,
From Blorit to Ponytail •    85

and changes in social role status—all of these are expressed in a person’s
choice of hairstyle.
     In recent years, a large number of social science studies have been
conducted on labeling, stereotyping, and cultural indoctrination. Many
of these studies have centered on Afro-Americans. Afro-Americans have
always been notable for highly creative hairstyles, so that it is not surprising
for intellectuals and researchers to be interested in the cultural, aesthetic,
and political aspects of Afro-American hair culture.¹¹ A comprehensive
study of the subject was published by N. Rooks in 1996, and covered the
history and politics of hair and the culture of beauty in Afro-American
communities from the 19t century to the 1990s. Rooks’s book, along
with other recent works, reflects the current trend of studying hair as part
of cultural history.¹² Hiltebeitel & Miller published a new anthology of
articles devoted entirely to the meaning of hair in Asian cultures.¹³ The
impressive range and innovative thinking in this collection suggests that
social research might be conducted in this field with an increasing focus
on popular culture, and especially on fashion and its significance.

                          Historical Summary
The Blorit or forelock
The typical male hairdo in Israel’s pre-state days, consisted of hair combed
straight back, which gave the wearer the impression of having a high fore-
head. Men wore their hair either brushed or combed back, or parted to one
side, with the longer part combed backward toward the crown, and the
shorter part combed down toward the ear. Sideburns were kept short (down
to the earlobe), rectangular, and thinned out. This hairstyle accentuated its
wearer’s temples and, where the hair was wavy, an unruly forelock—known
in Hebrew as the blorit—was formed.
     Most of the Jews in Palestine had wavy or kinky hair, and there were
no gels or creams at that time that men could use to protect their hair
from the elements. Further, the unreliable water supply meant that hair
was washed infrequently, so that many men’s hair went quite naturally into
a blorit. Farmers, construction workers, poets, and the pre-state Yishuv
leadership sported a blorit that was wilder, more “provocative” and indeed
symbolic—a fact presumably stemming from the greater independence of
these men (as in the case of poets), from a desire to stand out (in the case of
leaders), from long exposure to wind and sun (as with construction workers
and farmers), and from the tradition of the Russian-style peak cap that
covered only the back part of the head while leaving the forelock exposed.
86 • isr ael studies, volume 8, number 2

The poets Alexander Penn and Natan Alterman were renowned for their
blorit, as was the labor Zionist leader Berl Katzenelson. Older, balding
members of the community replaced the blorit with the “furry fringe,” a
fashion spearheaded by the military commander Yitzhak Sadeh, the poet
Avraham Shlonsky and most notably, by David Ben-Gurion, whose wooly
tufts of hair rose out from the sides of his scalp like cliffs of ice around a
frozen lake. Strange as it was, this hairstyle not only suited but also rein-
forced the image of these men as being remarkable, independent, ascetic,
assertive, and charismatic.
     Most Sabras adopted the hairstyle of their fathers. Some of them,
however, especially those who were raised on kibbutzim, who belonged to
youth movements, who attended Hebrew high schools, or who joined the
Palmach, the Yishuv’s elite fighting force, allowed their blorit to evolve into
something less tidy and therefore more conspicuous. The resulting Sabra
hairstyle dropped a few of the previous Russian elements and acquired
new American features under the influence of Hollywood movie stars like
Gary Cooper and Johnny Weismuller and American heroes such as Charles
Lindbergh. The younger generation’s consciousness of hairdos also grew as
part of a general new style in fashion.
     Nevertheless, judging from school photographs and snapshots of that
period, only a minority of boys and young men sported wild, boyish
blorit hairdos. The great majority of Sabra males wore a typically eastern
European hairdo, and in practice, only in the 1950s did the Sabra blorit
find its ultimate, conspicuous form and become the standard in the youth
movements.
     For several reasons the blorit developed into an important accessory
of the Sabra myth. It was often referred to in popular songs. It was also
routinely used in press caricatures to portray the Sabra and in descriptions
of young Israelis in war literature from the War of Independence and later.
The blorit on the heads of soldiers and farmers is easily discerned in pho-
tographs of military marches, in jeeps, at outposts and in the field, rather
than in studio photographs (see figure 2). While the Sabra preferred being
barefoot and bare headed, when he did wear a hat, he usually chose one of
three types that left his blorit exposed—the everyday cotton kova tembel
(or “fool’s hat,” rather like an un-ironed sailor’s hat), the knitted balaclava,
favored by Palmach soldiers, or the military beret (see figure 3).¹⁴
     What, in fact, did the hairstyle of the male pioneer and subsequently of
his Sabra offspring symbolize? The bare head, without side-locks and curls
signaled the rebellion against religious orthodoxy that lay at the foundation
of the Zionist revolution.¹⁵ The new “Gentile” European hairdo epitomized
Figure 1: Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion (1963)
      Courtesy of the Government Press Office
Figure 2 (left): Brotherhood
and asceticism as revealed
through the blorit (Palmach).
Courtesy of the Government
Press Office

Figure 3 (below): Paratrooper
at the Western Wall (photo-
graph by David Rubinger)—
The blorit as a symbol of
Zionist victory.
Courtesy of the Government
Press Office
From Blorit to Ponytail •    89

“Jewish normalization,” the effort to turn the Jews into a nation like any
other nation, to create a Jew with the same freely growing locks that had
long stood for good health in European and American folklore. The fact
that the blorit expressed a Jewish/Zionist desire to be like other nations is
underscored in Jewish sources, who cite it as one of the marks of the non-
Jew: “These are the ways of the Emorite, he who cuts his hair like a gentile
and he who makes a blorit” (Tosefeta Shabbat 6:1). On the other hand,
since hair is often mentioned in Biblical stories in the context of heroism,¹⁶
strength, beauty, and youth, the blorit of the Jewish pioneer and the Sabra
also emerged as a reference to the Biblical period and the promise of return
to ancient Jewish national glory.

 Girls with Pinafores and Ponytails (popular Israeli song)
Two standard hairstyles distinguished the first Zionist pioneer women
in Palestine, and were to remain standard hair-wear among later genera-
tions of Sabra women. One, which the poetess Rachel had borrowed from
central European peasant women, consisted of long, center parted hair,
gathered into a ponytail at the nape by a simple string, a bright ribbon, a
rubber band, or a black clip; a single plait, or, less commonly, two braids.
The braid occupies a place of honor in the pantheon of Zionist symbols,
making frequent appearances in references to pioneer women in poetry
and song. Haim Hefer, in particular, was singularly enamored of female
hair, and declared guilelessly “That if I should wish to kill myself / Then
your braid only will be my [hanging] rope” (from the song “Did They, Did
They”). Nor did the ponytail remain unsung, featured as it was in one of
the most famous of all the nostalgic songs—“Where are they, those girls /
with their ponytail and their pinafore?”
     The second standard hairdo of the early pioneer woman could easily be
dubbed the “Marlene Dietrich” look, after the German /American actress
who exerted enormous influence on female fashion. Here the hair was
completely drawn-back, often parted on the side and combed into a quiff,
somewhat like the male blorit. It was cut in a straight line to shoulder length
or shorter in the back. In women with wavy, curly, or even wiry hair—and
these were the majority—the short cut created a kind of bushiness around
the neck, which in turn gave the woman a young and carefree look.
     As with the men, the simplicity of women’s hairstyling projected the
simplicity or asceticism of the pioneer, socialist, frontier society, even as
the modest, unstylish, uniform hairdos of both boys and girls reflected
the Israeli culture of togetherness, comradeship, and devotion to the social
group. Gathering the hair into a ponytail or a braid, or cutting it to shoul-
90 • isr ael studies, volume 8, number 2

der length, proved functional for women who spent much of their time
outdoors and who had no easy access to hairstyling or cosmetic services. At
the same time, however, these feminine hairstyles also encoded value sys-
tems. Since Jewish religious law requires that both sexes cover their heads,
baring one’s head represented a statement against religion, and for women
it was an overt challenge to the Talmudic dictum (Berachot 24a) that “the
hair on a woman’s head equals that in her pubic region.” When the Sabra
woman married, she had no need to mark herself as “taken” through the
compulsory, traditional head covering. Her hair remained exposed to the
elements and visible to all, underscoring youth and freedom even after
matrimony and maternity.
     By removing her head covering, a woman was making another sym-
bolic statement—and emphasizing her health and beauty. To expose one’s
hair was to advertise one’s beauty and good health.¹⁷ The young patriot’s
beauty proclaimed the young nation’s beauty, and his or her health was a
reflection of the health of the nation as a whole.
     At the same time, the simple female hairdo echoed the egalitarian/
communitarian call of the kibbutz and Palmach culture.¹⁸ The ponytail
might have also expressed the sexual circumspection and modesty of
a society that still adhered to puritan codes.¹⁹ In the 1940s and 1950s,
women’s hair in general represented a kind of erotic code (since other parts
of the body could not be mentioned), and it is no coincidence that female
hair makes relatively frequent appearances in the romantic poetry of the
period—especially in the songs of Haim Hefer, where hair-blowing-in-
the-wind and swinging braids are used as euphemisms for the sensuous
movement of the body.²⁰

       The sacrifice of Isaac—boys in the barber’s chair
The massive waves of immigration during the state’s early years left their
mark on Israeli hair culture and tradition, and, in retrospect, on the national
mythology as well. Overt or covert pressure exerted by medical personnel,
teachers, and welfare workers on religious immigrants in transit camps
(especially those from the Yemen) to cut their curled side-locks²¹ was inter-
preted by the religious parties as well as by the immigrants themselves as
anti-religious coercion. Indeed, the ensuing controversy resulted in the fall
of Israel’s first government. Thus, side-lock-shearing acquired dispropor-
tionate (and sometimes distorted) mythical dimensions, especially in ultra-
Orthodox circles, which used it as a weapon to combat what they perceived
as a steamroller operation to force Jews to abandon their religion.
From Blorit to Ponytail •   91

     With unprecedented mass immigration to the new state of Israel, the
number of people in need of haircuts suddenly skyrocketed. The number
of barbers and hairstylists necessarily grew—some of these had been
fully trained in their countries of origin, others received their—formal or
informal—training in Israel. Dozens of improvised as well as professional
hairdressing salons were established (see figure 4). The hairdressing business
gained popularity among immigrants because it required neither a college
education nor a long training period, nor even expensive equipment (most
made do with scissors and a comb). Its mobility and regular pool of cus-
tomers were an added attraction. As a result, immigrants from the north
African, Arab-speaking countries quickly became a strong presence in the
profession, gradually pushing out the eastern European barber.
     The largest minority in the hairdressing profession was seeped in
culture of the pioneer and the Sabra, but in the 1950s and 1960s this was
not the only culture in Israel. An urban, petit-bourgeois culture, with its
roots in the 1930s and 1940s but thus far played down in the national myth,
had established itself in the larger cities. Despite their modest income,
immigrants from Romania, Poland, and Germany had managed to create
for themselves a “little Europe,” in which gentility, order, and cleanliness
played an important role. They patronized professional, well-equipped
hairdressing salons run by fellow European immigrants. These salons
gradually became equivalent to the local café—a recreation center, where
clients could gather to gossip, to reminisce and simply to converse in the
old language.
     Children were usually taken to the barbershop before each holiday,
and periodic haircuts were considered an important part of a child’s edu-
cation in obedience and neatness.²² People who grew up in those days
remember sitting in an oversized barber’s chair, with electric shears buzz-
ing overhead. Interestingly enough, the hairdressing experience has been
filed away alongside visits to the dentist—the sense of being a sacred lamb
bound for sacrifice.

                    Not just a pretty face—
         a cake in the oven and her head in the dryer
In the 1950s and 1960s, women in search of a shampoo or a quick spiritual
up-lift, visited beauty parlors—something outside the pale for men—on
a weekly basis (see figure 4). Before the advent of the blow dryer, many
women had used a home perm to curl or straightened their own hair. The
electric hair dryer arrived on the scene in the 1950s and with it came the
92 • isr ael studies, volume 8, number 2

        Figure 4: Barber shop at the Ra’anana absorption center (1949)
                    Courtesy of the Government Press Office

theatrical ambience of the beauty parlor, where huge drying helmets caused
a woman’s hair to “rise up” like a yeast cake and turn airy and light—a
hairstyle characteristic of Israeli housewives of eastern European origin.
     At that time, beauty shops were out of bounds to men because getting
one’s hair done was part of being a wife—part of caring for home and self,
for the benefit of husband and neighbors, and in order “to keep up appear-
ances.” Not surprisingly, a current, rather degrading Hebrew term describes
From Blorit to Ponytail •    93

     Figure 5: Women at a hairdresser in Tel-Aviv’s Shenkin Street (1951)
                  Courtesy of the Government Press Office

the type of woman who indulged in such pastimes as not only pretty, but
a good cook, too. To the young Israeli woman, such preoccupation with
having one’s hair done seemed to suggest that femininity was not merely
a matter of gender identity but also a profession to be learned, internal-
ized, and practiced. The beauty parlor began increasingly to function as
an exchange for gossip, advice, and complaints, where special relationships
grew between hairdressers and their clients, the former becoming confi-
dantes, counselors and suppliers of emotional succor.
     In the 1950s and 1960s, hair curlers ruled unchallenged. With their
help, and with the help of hairspray, women acquired elegant Hollywood-
inspired hairdos consisting of sculpted shoulder-length hair that resembled
the ornamentation on a palace cornice or a royal crown. Thus emerged the
new stereotype of modern womanhood as a cross between housewife and
model, princess and passionate lover.

                        ‘Look Smart, soldier!’
The country’s first few decades witnessed an increase in the power of the
military, even as the army turned into a kind of huge youth movement
and cultural melting pot. Over the years, the armed forces have generated
many an Israeli fashion and trend, including several different hairstyles.
94 • isr ael studies, volume 8, number 2

The new recruit’s crewcut became an important part of the Israeli rite of
passage, equal only to the bar mitzvah—by having his hair cut short, the
young soldier acknowledged his Zionist responsibilities and entered into
the military machine. After all, shaving one’s head in all modern armies
is symbolic of discipline, uniformity, order, organization, and submission
to authority.²³ The military haircut continues to exemplify “effacement of
the individual” by the organization—the renunciation of the personal in
favor of assimilation into autocracy.²⁴
     Although the soldiers have established a tradition of making subtle
but concerted attempts to circumvent the mandatory military hairstyle,
the symbolic importance of the army haircut means that deviators are
punished. A game of cat-and-mouse is thus played by military policemen
and master sergeants with disobedient soldiers (especially basic trainees)
whose hair has grown beyond regulation length, which has entered army
folklore and produced a wealth of anecdotes and legends. The most popular
“violations” are slightly longer sideburns than permitted; tiny tufts of hair
grown longer in the back; beret pushed up over the crown to expose the
blorit. These violations of military hair code also reflect a familiar Israeli
tendency to con the establishment, not to give in to social dictates and to
do precisely the opposite of what is expected.

                Singers Trifonas and Mike Brandt,
                   and the Pushtak Revolution
With the end of the tzena (the1950s austerity) Israel’s economy grew stron-
ger, and the country’s hair culture matured. For years, the only shampoo
available in Israel had been produced by the local pharmaceutical company,
Shemen. Now, new shampoos and other hair products, some imported,
appeared on the market; suddenly Israelis could buy conditioners, hair
sprays, blow dryers, Alice bands, all kinds of combs and brushes, ribbons
and pins, and hairdressers were devising new haircuts and styles, especially
for women.
     At about the same time, reverberations of the rock-and-roll revolution
began to reach Israel via films and foreign rock bands. Under the influence
of local rock vocalists, who had already adopted the rock-and-roll haircut,
young people, mostly from the north African Sephardi community, began
to imitate the famous duck-tail haircut of James Dean and Elvis Presley.
     Apart from the American influence, French, Italian, and Greek influ-
ences also penetrated Israel by way of popular Israeli entertainment clubs
in Jaffa. In Israel, instead of hair gel (which is not compatible with the
local heat and dust), it was the blow dryer that was applied to dry and
From Blorit to Ponytail •    95

brush simultaneously, to puff up and stiffen the hair, and ultimately to give
it a helmet-like look. The ears were covered with smoothly combed hair
reaching down below the chin (a length theretofore considered exclusively
feminine). The late Israeli vocalist Mike Brandt and Greek singer, Trifonas
(see figure 6), both very popular during that period. A few years later when
singers Shimi Tavori, Avner Gadasi, and Zohar Argov embraced this new
model, they were copied by many youngsters, mostly of Sephardi origin,
who were dubbed derisively (even arrogantly) pushtakim—“yobboes,” or
street kids. The Trifonas haircut came as a kind of compensation, then,
allowing a young man of limited means and social standing, to look and
feel glamorous even when his life was far from glamorous.
     In retrospect, the adoption of this new hairstyle constituted a bold and
important manifestation of independence and social assertiveness because it
signaled a realization by the young that they had to rebel—not only against
their parents but also against the constricting asceticism of Zionist culture.
The singers Shimi Tavori, Avner Gadasi, and their Sephardi counterparts
will be remembered as cultural pioneers who helped to break open the
Sephardi ghetto. Their achievements went well beyond the composition and
popularization of Sephardi music, as their anti-Sabra haircuts became a
social trademark and the symbol of a generation. David Levy (see figure 7),
a flagrantly Sephardi political leader, who became a cabinet minister in the
1970s, contributed his share to the establishment of the “blow-dry” style
and turned his own hairdo into a legend even as his colorful persona has
come to epitomize the Sephardi revolution.

    Here they come, with their long hair and bare feet.”
                  (popular Israeli song)
By the late 1960s and early 1970s, young Israelis of Ashkenazi (European)
origin had also begun to exhibit signs of mild rebellion, and they showed it
in their hair. The hippie way of living and thinking was reaching Israel via
American volunteers on kibbutzim, but also indirectly by way of records,
the radio, motion pictures, and magazines. Artists, as usual, were in the
vanguard, with the influential and much admired writer and professional
bohemian Dahn Ben-Amotz, who was among the first to eschew the Sabra
haircut and let his hair grow long, flower-child-style. In 1970, new vigor
was injected into the Israeli pop world with the staging, in Tel Aviv, of a
Hebrew version of Hair, starring Tzvika Pik and Uzi Fuchs. Pik wore a
provocative John Lennon hairstyle (see figure 8) or more accurately, an anti-
style hairdo of a length that, until then, had been considered feminine. By
shocking the adult public, he made himself a local youth hero, especially
Figure 6: Popular vocalists
and hairstyle role model
Shimi Tavori (1981)
Courtesy of the Government
Press Office

Figure 7: David Levy’s
famous hairdo.
Courtesy of the Government
Press Office
From Blorit to Ponytail •      97

      Figure 8: Israeli rock star and ’70s hairstyle role model, Tzvika Pik.
                     Courtesy of the Government Press Office

among teenage girls. Naturally curly-haired Uzi Fuchs sported an impres-
sive Afro, the second most popular hairdo of the sixties and seventies, which
was inspired by singer Jimmy Hendrix.²⁵
     In retrospect, it was the long hippie locks that replaced the Sabra
hairdo and represented the first crack in the culture of the Zionist youth
movements. In essence, long and disheveled hair was but one of many indi-
cations of youthful rebellion against the establishment; some of the others
were tight jeans, French kisses and overt sexuality, wire-rimmed glasses and
music with a strong beat, backpacking and smoking marihuana.
     Young Israeli women were also affected by the flower child revolution,
albeit to a lesser extent. Their new hairstyle came in four variations. One
was for the “working woman,” and its major feature was a mixture of mas-
culinity and femininity—shoulder-length and wavy, parted in the middle,
half-short, half-long, neat and simple. A second version offered straight
short hair, heavily teased and kept in place by hair spray—an adaptation of
the bouffant that had gained popularity in Europe in the 1960s.²⁶ A third
variety consisted of loose long straight hair parted down the middle, with
Figure 9: Yehudit Ravitz—
a popular Israeli singer since
the 1970’s and ’80’s.
Courtesy of the Government
Press Office

Figure 10: Singer Ilanit—one
of the more famous of Israel’s
blond Ashkenazi beauties and
a 1960’s role model.
Courtesy of the Government
Press Office
From Blorit to Ponytail •    99

bangs, suggesting both a return to nature and the unkempt hippie culture
(see figure 9). A fourth choice was presented by the long, loose, and kinky
hairstyle inspired by female vocalists like Janis Joplin (see figure 10). All of
these hairdos were appropriate for women with no time to waste at beauty
parlors as they already had begun to integrate themselves into the male
world and to adopt male models. In the end, whether the hair was short or
long and loose, the new message it broadcast was one of open sexuality.

            Emergence of the Israeli “Salon coiffure”
As Israel developed into a capitalist society during the 1980s, and western
products became readily available on the market, a change also occurred
in the hairstyling business. Barbers and beauticians took on foreign names,
usually with a French ring to them. The barbershop itself underwent a
semantic metamorphosis and became a “hairstyling salon.” Its decor also
changed, with an interior design that was often more like a living room
or a hotel lobby. This period produced the semi-stereotypical figure of the
male hairdresser as a faithful friend and confidante of his female custom-
ers, satirized in the popular movie Hairdresser starring Ze’ev Revach (1984),
which in the 1990s, joined the pantheon of post-modern nostalgia movies
known as retro.²⁷
      Israel’s new prosperity in the 1980s led to the development of a culture
of extravagant wedding parties, in which bridal parlors played an important
role. The bride (especially) and the groom’s hairstyling which preceded the
mandatory photograph sessions against sickly-sweet romantic backgrounds
joined the marriage ritual to become the realization of the young Israe-
lis’ dream. The bridal hairstyle almost always featured a construction of
elaborate kitsch, befitting a princess, a movie star or a fashion model, and
consisted of cascading curls and ornaments that made the hair look more
like a flower arrangement. The kitsch reflected the rise of a new Israeli
middle class and the transformation of the Israeli ethos into a nouveau riche
marketplace. Social changes also made their way into the fashion world,
and more modern hairstyles were adopted. Many women, including those
of Sephardi origin, began to dye or streak their hair blonde. In the 1990s,
the differences between the third generation Sephardi and Ashkenazi Jews
became almost completely blurred, as the process of Americanization swept
over everything.
      The spread of the fashion for blonde hair during in the 1980s deserves
a brief discussion of its own. The first reason for this phenomenon was
that the reduced cost and ready availability of hair dyes made it possible
for hair to be dyed at home. New home hair dyes replaced the former
100 • isr ael studies, volume 8, number 2

home preparations of egg mixtures, castor oil, henna, beer, or lotions. The
second reason is the fact that blondes are considered attractive, sexier and
more feminine.²⁸
     With hair dyeing becoming commonplace and readily available, natu-
rally dark-haired women were able to realize a dream and overcome the
frustrations of childhood.²⁹ It must be noted, however, that nowadays,
with the rising value of diversity and pluralism, the maturing of Israeli
society, and the end of Ashkenazi hegemony, the blonde is gradually being
demythologized as a stereotype, and there is a growing consciousness of
the beauty of the brunette and of women with other natural or unnatural
hair colors.

                The new crewcut and shaven head
In the 1970s, the popularity of the military radio station, Galei Zahal
increased significantly, and during the 1982 Lebanon War it became a
focus of youth culture. In 1984 two creative and enterprising young men,
Erez Tal (21) and Avri Gilad (22) began presenting a very popular radio
program called Ma Yesh? —“So What?” in which they maintained a non-
stop flow of banter, jokes, and zany situations, which they acted out with
guest artists. From a sociological point of view, Ma Yesh? was a milestone.
It also served as a catalyst for the development of a new Israeli cynicism, a
worldview which involved “sending up” anything and everything, with a
special focus on people who take themselves too seriously.
      The two’s influence was not restricted to the media. A generation of
nerds and “precious” kids from prosperous northern Tel-Aviv middle class
neighborhoods grew up on Ma Yesh? and for years adopted and emulated
the Tal-Gilad style and stock phrases, their wacky way of thinking, and
even their appearance. A salient feature of the Tal-Gilad image, apart from
their John Lennon glasses and slim physique, was their crewcut—at the
time, a rarity in Israel—which set the two radio hosts apart and marked
them as non-conformists.³⁰
      Inspired by the skinheads and the British punk new wave rockers
used their anti-hippie haircuts to express—perhaps unconsciously—a tra-
ditional but twofold generational rebellion against, and a self-promoting
defiance of, both the Israeli establishment and the flower children (see figure
11).³¹ In choosing to wear their hair short, Tal and Gilad might have also
been propelled by an unconscious desire to bury, once and for all, the Sabra
look. The nearly-bald look, notwithstanding its similarity to Holocaust
survivors or refugees, seemed to ridicule the abundance of hair in the blorit
From Blorit to Ponytail •   101

of the mythical Sabra, who, in fact, during this period became the target
of an attack by historians, the media, and the arts that marked the begin-
ning of the post-Zionist era. The short haircut also carried an anti-military
message, which conformed with the spirit of the times.
     The crewcut as an anti-military symbol? It is important to distinguish
between the Tal-Gilad “nerd” crewcut and the military-jock crewcut that
began to gain currency at the same time. During Israel’s first three decades,
crewcuts were worn almost exclusively by soldiers, who, however proud
they may have been of their service, let their hair grow as soon as they
were discharged from the army, as a combination of long hair and military
uniform became the mark of the reserve soldier. Gradually, however, the
crewcut began to gain popularity. High school boys liked it because it gave
them the appearance of being tough and athletic and because it advertised
to the world that their compulsory military service would be carried out in
a combat army unit. Discharged soldiers now liked it because it bespoke a
combat past. The crewcut became increasingly visible within the religious
Zionist community, where the military service ethic was gaining strength
in inverse proportion to its loss of appeal to the secular middle classes.

   Figure 11: “Those were the days”—the Tiffany Beauty Parlor, Haifa (1972)
102 • isr ael studies, volume 8, number 2

                   “Center parting; side parting”
                  (title of a popular Israeli song)
Beginning in the 1990s, a growing preoccupation with health and youth,
along with the worship of beauty and the dictates of mass consumption,
have elevated the fashion model to the rank of media hero. Youngsters
now feverishly cultivate their appearance, replete with haircut and hairdo,
as part of a narcissistic culture that deifies the self. Nowadays, the wor-
ship of beauty and the ritual of tending to one’s appearance begin at an
early age, and visits, by both boys and girls, to fashion boutiques and hair
salons (their number has dramatically risen in recent years³²) have grown
increasingly frequent.
      The small and modest, ill-equipped and, often somewhat frightening
barbershop of the country’s early days has in recent years been replaced
by a sophisticated beauty spa redolent of a country club where one goes
to have one’s head cleansed in more than one sense of the word (see figure
12). Even a shampoo is no longer a simple procedure, for any respectable
hairstyling establishment today offers its customers shampooing by special-
ized professionals (and don’t forget the separate tip!) as only a first stage in
hairdressing. Prestigious hairstylists charge exorbitant amounts as hairstyl-
ing has become increasingly sought after by the young.
      The growing importance of hair has raised the social standing of hair-
stylists to the rich and powerful, as evidenced by the attention allocated
them by the press and gossip mongers. Top hairstylists preside over their
own chain of establishments, with their name as trademark.³³

                     Contemporary hair fashions
But what about hair fashion itself? The 1990s have been characterized by a
large variety of haircuts and styles and by short-lived fashions. Even before
a new fashion takes root, a newer one emerges and shoves it aside. Yet
despite the variety, it is possible to identify a few common traits in Israeli
hairstyling, particularly among secular youngsters.
     First, we observe the demise of a native style and the growing influ-
ence of international fashions. In the wake of the 1990s media revolution
there was a dramatic increase in the import of behavior models from other
countries to Israel. Conspicuous examples of western hairstyles that became
very popular in Israel within different population groups were the Farrah
Fawcett look; the WWF male hairdo, with sideburns shaved above ear
level and hair on the back of the head; the roller-skate/Simpson/NBA
flat-top; the colorful and wet MTV look; and the clean-cut yuppie look
of American television.
Figure 12: Interior of Shuki Zikri’s hairstyling salon
            in Ramat Ha-Sharon (1998)
104 • isr ael studies, volume 8, number 2

      The most obvious hairstyling trend today is the blurring of gender.
Men, no less than women, apply lotions and mousse to their hair and
color it blonde or red, wear Japanese or Native American style ponytails
or braids, part their hair in the center (which, in Israel, had always been
an exclusively female preserve), and in general adopt styles that in the past
were considered feminine classics (e.g., the “flip”). Some men even pluck
out their chest hair, to complete the clean and smooth image that they
wish to project.³⁴
      The Israeli singer Aviv Gefen legitimized such feminine styles for
young Israeli men in the early 1990s, when he greased his hair and dyed it
orange and red.³⁵ Gefen, of course, did not invent androgynous fashion;
he was influenced by rock stars like Davie Bowie, Boy George, Michael
Jackson, and Prince, but his own background (he is a member of the famous
Dayan family) made his actions more symbolic and helped him gain social
acceptance. Israeli women, like their American counterparts, have been
following an androgynous direction, adopting boyish or shaved hairstyles
inspired by the singer Sinead O’Connor and the actress and singer Grace
Jones; they now grease their hair (once an exclusively male practice), and
grow imitation sideburns. Asymmetry, or the negligent, unkempt look in
women’s hairdos is also on the rise, stressing disharmony through differ-
ently cut and differently sized spikes of hair held in place by mousse or
other products. The colors chosen by today’s young women are no longer
solid and restrained, as in the past (brown, black, yellow) nor can they
necessarily be found in Nature. There is a growing tendency toward strik-
ing colors like scarlet, bright red, orange, and green, colors to produce a
“hen’s comb” that seems to proclaim, “I am no longer sitting on my eggs,
I’m crowing along with everyone else.”
      In comparison with former fashion trends, the new hairstyles of young
Israeli women have also been notable for what they lack, or leave out; gone
are the braids, the teasing or back-combing, the use of hair rollers, the
curls and other ornamental touches that had required long hours at the
hairdresser. Notwithstanding the short hair fashions, most young women
still prefer long hair. Loose hair lends an air of freshness and bespeaks
unconquered sexuality. Hair that flutters in the wind also exudes energy,
independence, and success—traits today’s young women seek to display.
      Another characteristic of the current hair culture is its success in sup-
pressing the signs of age. Head hair is one of the first areas of the body to
herald the aging process. The graying and thinning of the hair, along with
its loss of luster, flexibility and vitality are signals to all of us that we have
crossed the peak of our short lives. Past conventions allowed only women
From Blorit to Ponytail •    105

to hide these signs of age, with the help of hair dyes, transplants, and
wigs. Today aging men are increasingly engaged in pretty much the same
practices. Male attitudes to balding are changing, and it is no longer an
embarrassment to try hair transplants or use baldness remedies.
      While not to repudiate the hair-raising war against baldness, there has
at the same time been an effort to legitimize the completely bald head and
a tendency to idealize it, especially among the young. Fewer young people
now choose to keep their partially bald Benedictine-monk hairstyles and
opt instead for shaving off what is left of their hair, like Tibetan monks.
The old practice of hiding a bald patch by growing the hair long on one
side and combing it in strands over the crown like anchovies over a hard
boiled egg, is gradually going out of fashion. The new Israeli Yul Brynner
look has gained general acceptance. One of the reasons is that men are
now going bald at a younger age,³⁶ as a result of which the male syndrome
that could be labeled “Samson anxiety” (a sense that hair loss equals loss of
virility) has considerably escalated.³⁷ The assumption is that if one shaves
one’s scalp clean, one will end the frustration of gradual hair loss and the
consequent patchy look. The man tells himself, as it were: I will do to myself
what nature is plotting to do to me, and in doing so I will defeat it. The
recasting of categories by the balding man from “anti-masculinity to super-
masculinity” (to quote Anthony Synnot) is complete. This trick produced a
movement and a fashion wave called “Bald is Beautiful” in the U.S. in the
early 1980s, whose repercussions were felt in Israel a decade later.
      Another hair fashion phenomenon in the effort to blur age distinctions
has been the gradual disappearance of traditional children’s haircuts, which
may be the result of this era’s shorter childhood and earlier maturity, both
biological and psychological.³⁸ When still in preschool and elementary
school, girls, and to some extent boys, are taught to be conscious of their
appearance and fashionably up-to-date.³⁹ All the same, it might be worth
noting that age differences in Israeli hairstyles have not yet been entirely
eliminated, since hair dyeing is still largely practiced by the young.
      Most significant, perhaps, from a sociological point of view has been
the borrowing of hairstyling features formerly identified with fringe,
deviant, or kinky subcultures outside the western mainstream (gay, drag
queen, punk, Hare Krishna, trance, skinhead, neo-Nazi). Styles that were
once considered “crazy” or provocative—like the shaven head, the Marine
crewcut, the flat-top, the spiky look, the colorful ducktails, the hairdo of
different hair lengths and deliberate asymmetry, the long bangs over the
eyes, the long narrow sideburns, the tiny braids in the back—are today
embraced by the young and even by adults.
106 • isr ael studies, volume 8, number 2

                          Sociological Analysis
The following semiotic analysis of historical and cultural changes in Israeli
hair fashion examines the sociological connotations and associations of the
signs outlined above.
  1. Decline of the nationalist-Zionist element: The waning of the native
     features in hair culture, in particular the demise of the pioneer/Sabra
     model (the blorit etcetera), reflects the decline of Zionist culture, espe-
     cially among the educated and more prosperous, and the emergence of
     an alternative culture patterned on the West in general and on America
     in particular. But as in any dynamic of cultural change, the fading
     away of local hairstyles has not only echoed a changing cultural reality
     but also served to accelerate the process of change.
  2. Weakening of the Jewish factor: Judaism is not a religion of icons; it tends
     to focus on the unseen rather than on glorification and visible beauty,
     both in public and in private (compare synagogues to churches and
     mosques). Moreover, Jewish tradition forbids the wearing of “hair on
     the head—as the gentiles do” (Tosefta Shabbat 2:1, Babylonian Talmud
     Soteh 49b). Thus, the obsession with hair as part of a new system of
     values both reflects and contributes to a diminution of the Jewish ele-
     ment in Israeli culture.
  3. Israel’s cultural explosion: The large variety of acceptable hairstyles in
     Israeli society today stands out against the small number of hairdos
     worn in the early post-state years and exemplifies the dismemberment
     of Israel’s body politic into small sections and the country’s switch
     from a unified society with common tastes to a society of individuals
     with less and less in common. On the other hand, the new hairstyles
     reflect not only divisiveness and separatist trends but also an opposing
     tendency toward the closing of gaps, most notably the ethnic gap. The
     mythic blorit had in the past been a symbol at once of Sabra preemi-
     nence and of the hegemony of the Mapai party; as it vanished, so did
     the symbol of Ashkenazi domination. Today’s new styles have also
     contributed to blurring visual distinctions between ethnic groups.
  4. Narcissism: The Israeli hair cult is part of the overall worship of the self
     that has permeated Israeli culture. People are preoccupied with their
     hair because they are preoccupied with themselves—their appear-
     ance, image, health, age. The classic Sabra haircut actually represented
     an anti-haircut, or what in semiological parlance is known as “zero
     degree,” which seemed to say: “We don’t busy ourselves with personal
     aesthetics but instead devote our time to the collective.” Today’s hair-
From Blorit to Ponytail •    107

     styles send out the opposite message, “We lovingly invest both time
     and money in the way we look, because we love and are even in love
     with ourselves, and because we have the time and money for it.”
5.   A society of indulgence and plenty: Hairstyling has become a recreational
     and/or entertainment activity. Along with massage parlors, sauna and
     Jacuzzi spas, health clubs and classes in shiatsu, yoga, meditation, and
     Reiki, the new hairstyling establishment has been incorporated into
     the network of indulgences that has spread in Israel in recent years as
     part of the country’s western-style prosperity. The hairstyling salon
     may be to modern man what the Roman bath was to the ancients—a
     locus of temporary release. Perhaps the mere touch of the stylist can
     compensate for the chilly alienation gradually pervading our competi-
     tive society.
6.   Conquering Nature: New technologies in hair transplantation, hair
     straightening and hair curling, as well as in the renewal of natural
     color or imitation of the original through sophisticated treatments,
     serve as a metaphor of sorts for the amazing power of science. At the
     threshold of the 21st century, Homo sapiens is able, better than ever
     before, to control and govern the forces of Nature, and this ability
     will grow with further advances in genetics, telecommunications, and
     computer science.
7.   Beauty care and aesthetics as a central value: The rich variety of available
     hairstyles, the use of rainbow colors and hair gel, the rate in which hair
     fashion changes, and the basic need to look good reflect Israel’s transi-
     tion from a drab, austere society that played down physical beauty, to
     one that goes all out to attain beauty. The exaltation of beauty in Israel,
     to the point of worship, is no doubt a product of an already devel-
     oped individualist culture that also seeks a kind of self-realization.
     Because to cultivate anything, including one’s appearance, requires
     an awareness of one’s self within the process of acquiring knowledge
     and developing taste. Another factor might be the strive for perfection
     that characterizes capitalist society, where the competitive nature of
     the market causes a rise in the value of beauty, and where man is a
     commodity seeking to market itself by whatever means are available,
     including outward appearance.
8.   Social pluralism and democracy: The large variety of hairstyles, together
     with a growing acceptance of unusual, even bizarre fashions, reflects
     the pluralism and democracy characteristic of Israeli society in recent
     years. Expressing oneself and one’s preferences in public is now sanc-
     tioned and even encouraged. The large selection of available hair care
108 • isr ael studies, volume 8, number 2

      products also points to a rise in democratic values within a culture that
      offers every man what is right for him. Indeed, hair itself is democratic
      in that, more than any other part of the body, it provides qualitative
      “equality” between the slender and the overweight, the handsome and
      the homely, the tall and the short, the healthy and the handicapped.
      As to the culture of hairstyling, it is also democratic because it allows
      for a change of identity so to speak, by giving everybody a chance to
      make a new start through a new hairdo.
 9.   A mark of youth: The recent closing of the generation gap has its
      matrix, among other things, in the cult of youth that has developed
      naturally in a society of leisure and plenty and long life expectancy.
      Old age is now perceived as a curable disease, or at least one that can
      be delayed. People try with all their might to halt the aging process
      and preserve their youthful spirit through a young way of life and by
      adopting symbols of youth. According to current wisdom graying hair
      equals a graying personality—both of which should be avoided. Once
      considered a badge of honor and a mark of sagacity, white hair is now
      viewed as a sign of obsolescence or degeneration.
10.   Sex appeal: Red hair,⁴⁰ unfettered hair, spiked hair and hair gel all
      are meant to create sex appeal and reflect a permissive world devoid
      of shame or regrets, in which sex is omnipresent or at least implied at
      every corner. The traditional symbolic link between feminine sexuality
      and long hair has been severed. There was a time when western culture
      held that long hair was feminine and sexy.⁴¹ Today, what seems to
      advertise female sex appeal along with exoticism and independence is
      short hair, even a crewcut. This is due to the emergence of a new set
      of associations between hair and sex.⁴²
11.   Perpetual motion: The rapid pace of change in hairstyles, haircuts, hair
      colors, and hair products merely reflects the extremely rapid pace of
      life in an era in which man is psychologically conditioned for variety,
      in which novelty is the ideal and change a cultural tradition, and in
      which instability prevails as a natural byproduct of a capricious way
      of life.
12.   Rockers as hair models: Hebrew music stars have played a central role
      in importing and promoting foreign models. For example, the singer
      Shlomo Gronich was the first Israeli celebrity to dare to wear a ponytail
      (see figure 13) and a goatee—something which initially appeared to
      be presumptuous, bold, and even crazy but which today constitutes a
      cultural trademark, in the spirit of the times. Influence by musicians
      is not unique to Israel; it is linked to the rise of the culture hero as a
From Blorit to Ponytail •   109

    molder of public taste and style in an age of telecommunication. It is
    almost imperative in the West that vocalists or bands at rock concerts
    must introduce something novel, not only musically but also in their
    own appearance, since this, too, is part of the show, part of the com-
    petition among stars, part of the rock culture as a whole
13. Television, haircuts, and globalization: For some time now, television
    has served as a basic vector in determining styles and tastes in west-
    ern countries in general and in Israel in particular. Hair fashion is a
    good example of television’s growing influence on our lives. In the
    early 1990s, for instance, WWF-style haircuts (inspired by wrestling
    matches broadcast on TV) characterized by sideburns shaved above the
    ear became common in Israel, especially among the so-called arsim,
    tough street kids.⁴³ Men’s hair color was also affected by the WWF
    and, at a later stage, by Dennis Rodman, the eccentric NBA star.
    MTV is a fashion bellwether for the modern generation, including
    hairstyles. The influence of television on hair fashions is an important
    sociological phenomenon because stations are now international and
    can create a universal “look” that promotes the global village. As a

                                             Figure 13: Israeli pop star
                                             Shlomo Gronich—the first
                                             Israeli brave enough to wear
                                             a ponytail
                                             Courtesy of the Government
                                             Press Office
110 • isr ael studies, volume 8, number 2

     result, today young Israelis look more like Italian, French, British, or
     American youths than ever before (and similar looks indirectly reflect
     a similarity in taste and values).
14. Hairstyle as a measure of and catalyst for post-feminism: The new hair-
     styles, both women’s and men’s, symbolically express a late 1990s post-
     feminist ethos, the main features of which are the continuity of the
     struggle to end discrimination against women, all areas of women’s
     self-realization, and a gradual curbing of macho dominance. Unlike
     traditional feminism that sought to eliminate gender markers, post-
     feminism stresses conspicuous femininity, sexual liberation, and provo-
     cation of men. Through her hair, the post-feminist woman declares: “I
     am not shy and I am not one to stay in the kitchen. Just as my hair is not
     tied back, I am not tied to the home. I’m spontaneous, independent,
     strong, sharp, educated, I have a status in my world and a career of
     my own, I am sexually liberated, I seduce but am not easily seduced;
     you, men may pursue me, but I will set the rules of the game.” The
     macho male stereotype has also moved towards the center by adopting
     a few female traits. The very fact that male attention to appearance
     has risen—a process that in the West began in the late 1970s—is in
     and of itself indicative of a blurring of the distinction between female
     and male lifestyles.⁴⁴
 15. Hairstyle as a measure of the cultural gap between center and periphery: In
     Israel, changes in hairstyling practices took place largely in the middle
     and upper-middle class secular or traditional community. Within the
     more conservative minority groups in Israel (religious Zionists, ultra-
     Orthodox, Druze, and Muslims), there have been only minor, if any,
     changes in hairstyles over the generations. Moreover, in these circles,
     hairstyles are subject to both formal and informal taboos because
     uniformity is believed to preserve the boundaries of the group by
     strengthening the common identity and because tradition in hairstyl-
     ing also serves in monitoring the values and behavior of the individual
     within the group and in preventing social deviation (see: Hallpike,
     1969). An interesting Israeli phenomenon has been the proliferation
     of contemporary hairstyles among young new immigrants, both from
     the former Soviet Union and from Ethiopia, attesting to their rapid
     assimilation. However, there seems to be a visible difference between
     the hairstyles of the older immigrants and the younger, owing no doubt
     to the latter’s closer contact with the integrating society, to stronger
     peer pressures among young people, and to young people’s greater abil-
     ity to learn and adjust to a new culture. This difference in hairstyling
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