When I first met my later-to-be husband in 1977 he had blond, permed hair, similar (as I recall) to Gord's on the Rolling Stone cover. Oddly enough I can't remember whether he had his beard and mustache at that time as well; he grew and shaved them so frequently I often lost track. I do remember he wore jeans, a knit shirt,worn leather bomber jacket and wire-rim glasses. I was wearing jeans and an orange ribbed half-sleeve poorboy sweater, along with a ratty apron as at the time I was making salads and desserts at a local Italian restaurant. He came by with my sister and her husband at closing to pick me up. We had a drink at the bar then all piled into his battered little Honda Civic to go home. Sigh.
Long story short, I guess (not), perms were the thing at the time. Of course, anyone who's met my husband recently knows his perms, like his hair, are a thing of the past. He now passes for Mr. Clean, minus the earring.
As for Gord, who cares? I think he's feeling and looking pretty good. The rest is all window-dressing.
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