Go big or go home.

A short rumination on your inherent badassery.

The real thing don’t do the trick
No, you better make up something quick
You gonna burn, burn, burn, burn, burn it to the wick
Ohh, barra-barracuda, yeah

Outraged by record-industry sexism in 1976, Ann Wilson of Heart originally wrote a poem expressing the pain and humiliation of workplace harassment. She revealed in interviews that the song was about the sisters anger towards Mushroom Records, who as a publicity stunt released a made-up story of an incestuous affair involving Ann and her sister Nancy Wilson.

Barracuda was released in 1977, and the sisters told the world they weren’t f-ing around. They sported big hair, big attitudes, a bigger sound and they were heard.

You lived in unison with the Wilson sisters. Big hair. Big attitudes, big lives and you were heard. Your stage was shopping malls, high school corridors, and keg parties.

Your pièce de résistance, magnum opus, literally the jewel in the crown was your fluffed-up, 1980s glam rock hair. It was a one of a kind art piece. A cultural icon. A fashion and life statement. Your hair marched in the tree-lined suburban streets and it said, “big, isn’t big enough”. Your paintbrush was a can of Aqua Net, the big hair 80’s choice of hairspray. This super-stay spray kept those teased-up tresses and you looking larger than life for a decade.

You hair didn’t budge and inch and neither did you. It was wind resistant. Bullet proof. And if need be, a battering ram. It was equally a fortress and a fire hazard. It’s a miracle that a stray lighter-in-the-air, being commandeered by an intoxicated Motley Crew fan, during the power ballad “Home Sweet Home”, didn’t light your entire head and the arena on fire. You were a combustible force of nature and hair care products engaged in a delicate cultural dance.

That hair mountain you forced upward every morning helped you ride taller in the saddle. The weight of it strengthened your spine and your resolution. Looking that good was a time consuming, hand-crafted, rug ruining, sticky residue leaving testament to what you believed in.

Big is bold. Big is beautiful and if you can’t see Back to the Future in the movie seat behind me because of my hair manifesto, that’s to freak’in bad loser.

Literally the weight of the world was on your shoulders. Not only did you bare that weight, you crimped, curled, and sprayed it as high as you could. All the way to the outer atmosphere. You actually poked a hole in the ozone with that hair. You were also telling the world, I am not f-ing around.

Go big or go home.

You don’t need the hair, the aqua net, the crimper, or the curler, to be a unequivocal, unapologetic, untethered badass.

Remind the world in unison.

Crazy on you
Let me go crazy, crazy on you.

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