The arrangement of the hair being indispensable to beauty only in woman, man, without actually handling the scissors and the curling tongs, ought to be his own hair-dresser; and if so, we may be sure… that his character, careless or careful, impetuous or calm, timid or resolute, stiff or unreserved, will show itself in the way in which he usually cuts and arranges his hair. But woman needs to be adorned with profound skill, and it is not easy for her to dress her own hair.
But if the nose is unequally short and turned up, the hair admits of still more fanciful arrangement; it may be whimsical, surprising, even set off with a little disorder. A stray ringlet, a careless bit of ribbon, an aigrette on one side would be allowable, or a falling spray of flowers, or a single curl on the face.
Every day it happens to us to fail to recognise our friends when they have cut their hair in some unusual manner, when they have shaved or allowed their beard to grow contrary to their ordinary practice. This proves what effect these natural ornaments have on a man’s appearance, and how they fix themselves in memory.
[W]hat a difference there is between a head dressed with feeling, and the same head when the hair is left to chance or ill arranged! No doubt the natural arrangement may be so admirable that there is no necessity for any alteration. It is thus that disordered hair may characterise the incessant absorption of a philosopher, always buried in problems, like Ampère—let us leave him with his hair all in confusion.