It’s self-explanatory. We’re speechless. And have a hankering for pretzels for some reason. Frida Kahlo, Self Portrait With Braid (1941).
Even if you are not familiar with the long history of collaborative work between the artist and the siren, you can probably assume it’s Björk by the back of her head. Hrafnhildur “Shoplifter” Arnardóttir for Björk’s Medulla (2004.)
Our attentions are torn between the fiery mustache-like curl duo on his forehead and the severed-horn comb-over skillz going on here. Suave. Matthew Barney, Cremaster 4 (1994).
Speaking of art couples… Here’s one way to strengthen the binds… erm… bond between two artists in a tumultuous relationship. Marina Abramović and Ulay, Relation in Time (1977).
This particular mythical hair situation clearly calls for a soundbite from Samuel L. Jackson. Peter Paul Rubens, The Head of Medusa (1615).
If you think this spoke-like masterpiece is a bit much, you should see the crap he does to his dead models. Joel-Peter Witkin, Portrait of Nan (1984).
Warhol may have dyed his hair white to perpetually mask his age, but he styled it to look distinctive in paintings and Polaroids. Electric! Andy Warhol, Self Portrait (1986).
Big hair. Little girl. Was this the 17th century equivalent of a child beauty pageant? Diego Rodriguez de Silva y Velázquez, Infanta María Teresa (1651-52).
Nagi Noda is weird. Awesome weird. That freaky video of humanoid poodles doing aerobics weird. Yes, of course, Gaga wore it. Naturally.
Artist Levi Van Velow’s body of work is all him, all head, sculpted over and over, erupting in moss, peeling like old floor boards or, in this case, smothered in hair extensions like a Japanese horror film malady.
You know that scene in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind where Joel keeps spinning Patrick around only to discover his front of the head is his back of the head is his front of the head is his back of the head? Aaah! This modern homage to Magritte is also lovely. Simon Schubert, Le El (2005).
Back when shaving yourself a very high forehead was very fashionable. Or maybe that was just to keep the fleas under your headdress. Either way. Neat. Jean Fouquet, Virgin and Child (1450).