The Lacquered Hair: A Brief Cultural History, 1950 to Now

The lacquered hair — the hair that reads, in a photograph, as a single reflective surface — is, in 2026, having a moment. It is a moment with a long history. The lacquered hair is not, as the recent coverage of glass hair and glazed donut hair might suggest, a new idea. It is the third or fourth return of an idea that has been around, in various formulations, for the better part of seventy-five years.

The history is the history of an industry trying to make hair look, in a photograph, like a surface other than hair.

1950 — the lacquered wave

The first period of the lacquered hair is the 1950s, in Hollywood. The hairstyle of the period — the victory rolls, the bombshell wave, the pixie with a lacquered fringe — was, almost without exception, finished with a generous application of hair lacquer. The product was a pressurised aerosol, dispensed from a tin can, that held the hair in place for the duration of a working day on a film set.

The 1950s lacquer was, in chemical terms, a shellac-based formula dissolved in alcohol. The shellac, when it dried, formed a hard, glossy, slightly brittle film on the surface of the hair. The film held the hair in place and reflected the studio light in a way that the hair, on its own, would not. The reflection was the point. A 1950s studio portrait is, in part, a study in shellac.

The shellac formula had a problem: it was not water-soluble. To remove the lacquer, the wearer had to wash the hair with vinegar, or with a special shampoo, or with whatever solvent was at hand. The lacquer was, by the standards of the late 1960s, an aggressive product. The counterculture, when it arrived, was as much a reaction against the lacquer as against the hairdos that required it.

1960 — the brief natural interregnum

By the late 1960s, the lacquered hair had, mostly, gone out of fashion. The natural hair of the counterculture — long, unbrushed, uncombed — was, among other things, an explicit refusal of the lacquered surface. The hair was supposed to do what the hair did. The reflection was, briefly, an embarrassment.

The natural hair was, in retrospect, as much a construction as the lacquered hair. The natural hair was washed, combed, occasionally set, and certainly thought about. But the lacquer — the literal product — was out. By 1970, the major lacquer brands had been reformulated to be water-soluble, in response to a customer base that no longer wanted to use vinegar to remove its product.

The brief natural interregnum is, in cultural-history terms, the only time in the last seventy-five years that the lacquered hair has not been, in some form, a fashionable look. The interregnum lasted about fifteen years.

1980 — the new wave lacquer

The lacquered hair returned in the 1980s, with the new wave and post-punk hairdos. The hairstyle of the period — the asymmetrical crop, the brightly coloured quiff, the side-swept fringe — was, again, finished with a generous application of hair lacquer. The product this time was not shellac. It was a polyvinylpyrrolidone (PVP) formula, which was water-soluble but, in the finished film, slightly less brittle than shellac. The PVP film held the hair in place and reflected the light, but it was, in texture, more forgiving than the 1950s shellac.

The 1980s lacquer was, in cultural terms, the moment the product returned to fashion as a product. The 1950s lacquer was a tool of the studio; the 1980s lacquer was a consumer good. The drugstore shelves, by 1982, were crowded with brands — Aqua Net, Final Net, Freeze It, Finesse — each promising a slightly different hold.

The 1980s lacquer was also, in packaging terms, loud. The aerosol can was a graphic object. The Aqua Net can, in particular, became a cultural artefact in its own right — a small, pink-capped, white-cylindered piece of 1980s visual culture.

2000 — the gloss without the lacquer

By the early 2000s, the lacquered hair had, again, receded. The hairstyle of the period — the Rachel, the Friends layers, the Paris Hilton highlights — was, on the whole, not lacquered. The hair was, however, increasingly glossed. The 2000s introduced, into the mass market, a category of products — gloss sprays, shine serums, light-reflecting finishes — that were designed to make the hair look, in a photograph, like a reflective surface, without the rigidity of the 1980s lacquer.

The gloss product was, in chemical terms, a silicone emulsion — dimethicone or cyclomethicone in a light carrier. The silicone deposited a thin, transparent film on the surface of the hair. The film reflected the light. The film did not, in any meaningful sense, hold the hair. The hair, with the gloss on it, was still movable, still soft, still the hair of a person rather than the hair of a sculpture.

The 2000s gloss was, in cultural terms, the moment the lacquered hair became a look without becoming a style. The hair was reflective. The hair was not held. The hair, in a photograph, looked lacquered. The hair, in a wind, did not behave as if it were.

2020 — the glass hair, and the return of the lacquer

The current moment, in the mid-2020s, has been called the era of glass hair — a term that originated in the K-pop fan communities of the early 2010s and entered the Western mainstream in the late 2010s. The glass hair is hair that has been blow-dried, flat-ironed, and finished with a small amount of a heavy silicone serum, until the hair reflects, in a photograph, as a single unbroken surface.

The glass hair is, in chemical terms, a return to the 2000s gloss, but with a heavier hand. The serums used for glass hair are heavier than the 2000s shine sprays. The serums are also, often, layered — a base serum, a flat-iron pass, a finishing serum, sometimes a final oil.

The glass hair is not, technically, a lacquer. The glass hair does not, in the way the 1980s lacquer did, hold the hair in place. The glass hair is, rather, a finish — a way of making the hair look, in a photograph, like a single surface, without requiring the hair to be, in fact, a single surface.

But the term lacquered hair has, in the last three years, made a quiet return. Stylists who work on editorial and on film sets — the people who have, for seventy-five years, been the actual custodians of the lacquered look — have, in conversation, started to use the word lacquer again, in a way that the 2000s and 2010s did not. The word has come back. The product has, in some form, come back.

What the surface does, and what it does not

The lacquered hair is, in 2026, a photographic finish. The hair is meant to look, in a photograph, like a reflective surface. The hair is not, in everyday life, expected to behave like one. The gap between the photograph and the everyday is, in 2026, larger than it has ever been — the photograph is doing more work than the actual hair.

The history of the lacquered hair is, mostly, the history of the photograph. The 1950s shellac was for the studio. The 1980s PVP was for the magazine. The 2000s silicone was for the digital camera. The 2020s serum is for the smartphone.

Each generation has had its lacquer. Each lacquer has done the same work. The work is to make the hair, in a photograph, look like a surface other than hair. The work is, in 2026, what it has been since 1950: to make the photograph look good.