Donald Trump Jr.: The Man, the Myth, the Hairstyle
The Donald is known for many things—his taste in Eastern European women, his casinos, his TV show—but he's perhaps best, or most endearingly, known for his hair, which seems to follow few rules but his own. In that regard, then, Donald Trump Jr. doesn't take after his dad. He's got the hairstyle that men want to copy and women want to run their fingers through—if they could get through the gel, of course.
If you've hung out with anyone who works in finance (or, we suppose, a la Trump Jr., commercial real estate) lately who's under the age of 40, odds are he's got the Wall Street. It's characterized by longish hair, slicked and combed back, giving the wearer a sort of Master of the Universe look (we mean that in a Bonfire of the Vanities, not a He-Man, sort of way, though come to think of it, He-Man did sort of have a similar look about him). In many ways Donald Trump Jr. is perhaps the quintessential embodiment of the Wall Street look—we tend to see the hairstyle more, for whatever reason, on darker-haired, chubbier-cheeked baby millionaires, who seem to roll out of bed in a custom-tailored suit each morning.
These are the men you see ordering up endless bottles of wine at Midtown steakhouses, who play squash with their buddies at the Yale Club, whose wives are as impossibly thin and beautiful as their husbands are slightly overweight. It's not an attractive hairstyle, per se, but there's something strangely virile about it. For one thing, the wearer has to have a rather full head of hair to pull it off, which means it's really for younger men, and those with good, hairy genes. It also instantly gives the wearer a pompous, "I could buy you" sort of look, which—let's face it—some women in this big, bad city of ours will always find attractive.
