By Alex Nino Gheciu

Copyright gq

When L.A.-based content creator Alex Narvaez recently became a dad, he didn’t just trade bar crawls for diaper runs. He also traded in his haircut.
For years, Narvaez rocked a bleached forward crop, a style he says made him look “more playful, more youthful, more approachable” in front of the camera. But with fatherhood and 40 on the horizon, he felt the pull of something sharper. So he made a follicular U-turn, ditching the crop for a clean, combed-back fade: less wide-eyed, more powerful.
“You think slicked-back hair, you think someone in a suit who’s a CEO,” he says. “I feel like I’ve reached a new level of maturity and I wanted to embrace that in my aesthetic.”
The decision taps into a classic grooming dichotomy guys have been circling forever: Should you brush your hair forward or back? Like Tupac vs. Biggie, standing desk vs. beanbag chair, or skinny jeans vs. pants so wide they could hide a family of raccoons, the direction of your hair can feel like a referendum on who you are—or at least who you want to be.
Celebrity hair stylist Clayton Hawkins frames the choice as a tug-of-war between two cultural auras. “To me, slicked back is pure ’80s Wall Street excess. Forward is 2000s MySpace,” he says. “We’ve been ping-ponging between those vibes for decades.”
At the moment, he says, the youth have planted their flag firmly in forward territory. Think Timothée Chalamet’s messy art-student mop or Paul Mescal’s sad-boy sweep.
“Gen Z loves the floppy forward fringe. By your 30s, a lot of guys start slicking back. But whether it looks good or not is very hairline-dependent. You don’t want to be giving Bill Maher Dracula vibes.”
The frontward flop—besides being forgiving for cooked hairlines—has had an undeniable grip on Gen Z, says Lucas Wood, a bemopped 21-year-old Toronto grooming influencer. Fueled by TikTok and teens eager to emulate the messy fringes of soccer stars like Alejandro Garnacho, he feels the look reflects a departure from traditional manly-man grooming codes toward softer, more playful style choices.
“A lot of these fluffy hairstyles are influenced by big soccer players or people who have the freedom to do what they want because they are who they are,” says Wood, brushing aside his own tousled curtain bangs. “I also think things culturally took a sensitive turn, and we strayed away from the whole masculinity thing.”
Even Wall Street guys are loosening up, says Tony DeAngelis, co-owner of New York City’s Blue&Black. He’s noticed many ditching the Don Draper boardroom-slick for “cropped, textured, forward” cuts: less Mad Men, more Matcha Man.
“There was a moment a few years ago when guys doing the pulled-back hairstyle started saying, ‘Hey, I don’t wanna look like a Proud Boy,” he recalls. “It’s a classic clean-cut American look, but it got associated with that movement.”
Beyond a rejection of white-nationalist cosplay, DeAngelis suggests the shaggy crop surge signals a desire for something lighter, looser, less aggro. “People are taking a more comfortable approach to style, and maybe this is part of that. It’s more low-maintenance, it doesn’t require much product. It leans toward androgynous territory. It’s a little friendlier.”
For Edmonton, Alberta, university researcher Anton Malkin, the textured forward cut is less a political statement than pure practicality. When the 39-year-old became a dad during the pandemic, elaborate grooming rituals went the way of pre-baby sleep. His fix: the perma-bedhead-scholar vibe.
“I just rummage through my hair with my hand, push it forward, and I’m good to go. I’ve embraced the busy-dad look. I bought a minivan, and from there, you’re too far gone,” he says.
“Although my wife says I’m starting to look like Danny Tanner, so now I don’t know what to do.”
Wood says Gen Z, too, is growing weary of “try-hard” hair, even in the maxxing corners of TikTok. He notes the broccoli perm, once the generation’s go-to, is played out. His peers are leaning into their natural textures, favoring seemingly effortless fringes like the messy middle part he currently sports.
But he’s also spotting a tangle in the narrative: The slick-back is creeping back in, staging a Logan Roy–style hostile takeover of young hairlines. Some Gen Z’ers are opting for Gordon Gekko glow-ups, trading in disheveled cool for corner-office crisp.
“I think the masculine, sharp, clean look is on the come-up. People my age are starting to realize that these flashy, fluffy looks are a bit childish. We’re growing up and wanting better jobs,” Wood says, noting he’s been dabbling with the power swoop himself. “As a young male, it’s very hard to be taken seriously, so I think guys are starting to realize they have to look the part.”
Not everyone is thrilled about the backcombed comeback. Celebrity hairstylist Elena Maravelias feels the look conjures the “sloppy steaks” dudes from that iconic I Think You Should Leave sketch, where Tim Robinson remembers his slicked-back hair days when he was “a huge piece of shit.”
“It’s calling back to a bygone era when men got away from their wives and kids and went to the steakhouse together to fuck around,” she says. “It’s almost a call back to mob culture. Like, ‘We’re tough guys. We slick our hair back. We go to the steakhouse and have our man meal.’”
Beyond that, Maravelias argues the style projects an outdated, boomer-era idea of professionalism. “We live in a time where you can be successful and wear your hair however the hell you want, as long as you handle your business,” she says.
Plus, she adds, the slick-back radiates serious manchild energy. “It gives ‘I’m in corporate America and mommy combed my hair this way when I was a kid, so I’m gonna do it too.’”
Narvaez would at least partially agree. His combed-back fade nods to a style he first wore in elementary school, inspired by Latino movie characters he admired, like Benjamin Bratt’s conflicted gangbanger Paco Aguilar in 1993’s Blood In Blood Out.
“The origins of why I went this way are probably more cultural,” he says. “Growing up, a lot of Latino and Hispanic characters I saw in the media had slicked-back hair, so I think that’s why I went that route. Maybe I’m subconsciously channeling that same essence now as an adult living in LA.”
He points to the style’s roots in LA’s pachuco subculture of the 1930s, where slickbacks and zoot suits signaled confidence, rebellion, and attention to grooming. “It’s formal but still super swaggy.”
Meanwhile, Toronto sales manager Albert Evangelista says his flowing back-sweep carries no cultural weight—it just feels like the right move for a professional in his late 30s.
“Combing it back is harder to do,” he says. “It takes effort and shows you’re actually trying. Plus, I have shit to do, so I wanna be able to see without hair in my eyes.
“I think artsy emo guys wear it forward because they don’t wanna look like they’re trying. They just tousle it with their hand and are all like, ‘You don’t understand me!’”
Still, he gets the appeal of both directions. “When I wanna feel like a boss, I gel it back, says Evangelista “But when I’m feeling sad, I comb it forward. Some days you don’t wanna be seen.”
Hair, after all, is just another form of expression—and depending on your mood, it can swing faster than the Dow. Identity is always in motion.