Guy Fieri Got His Bleached Blond Hair By Telling The Stylist "Do What You Want" - The First Time That Has Ever Worked Out
“Just do whatever you want.”
“Surprise me.”
“I dunno just do what you think.”
Famous last words for anyone who has ever gone to a barber or hairstylist. Remember Hubbs?
That’s what happens. Last time I did that I ended up just like this with no sideburns. No, not like, short sideburns. Literally no sideburns. My hair just wrapped around the top of my head in a kind of quasi-bowl cut with bare skin underneath it extending down into my face.
All that is to say, Guy Fieri is the first person to end up with a positive outcome from this situation.
His now-iconic hairstyle was some what of an accident, says Guy, brought on by his hairdresser at the time and good friend, Christina Jones.
“I was just kind of having one of those moods one day, and said, ‘Just do whatever you want.’ She goes, ‘Whatever I want?’ ‘Whatever you want,’” he recalls. “I get done and I’m like, ‘You gonna wash that out, that shampoo?’ She goes, ‘No, that’s your hair color.’ I’m like, ‘My what!’ It was Friday night at like six o’clock. I had to be at the restaurant. I’m like, ‘No.’ She’s like, ‘Yeah.’ So I put a ball cap on and walked to the restaurant.”
If Guy is the Mayor of Flavortown and his wife is First Lady, hairdresser Christina Jones is Speaker of the FlavorHouse.
Yeah his wife hates his fucking guts, but know what she doesn’t hate? The millions of dollars flooding their bank account from her husband’s douchebag haircut and short sleeve button downs covered in fire flames serving up Guy-talian fondue dippers and Righteous Rojo Rings.
It’s hard to believe there was a time when Guy Fieri didn’t have his bleach blonde tips, but Lori Fieri remembers it well.
The Food Network star’s wife of 24 years tells PEOPLE in this week’s issue, on newsstands now, that when the two first met in 1992 at a California restaurant Guy managed, he looked a whole lot different. “When I first met him, he had no goatee. He had dark hair. He wore a suit to work every day,” she says. “Now I look at him and I’m like, ‘Where’s that man I married with the whole clean look?’”
Watermelon margaritas and pretzel chicken tenders slathered in SMC (super melty cheese) and Donkey Sauce just wouldn’t be the same if they were served by this herb:
But this guy?
TAKE ME TO FUCKING FLAVORTOWN MOTHERFUCKER.
SHOOT THE FUCKIN GUY-TALIAN NACHOS INTO MY FUCKING VEINS!!!!!
This guy serves you “a cheeseburger.”
THIS GUYS SERVES YOU AN OFF-DA-HOOK ORIGINAL SMASH BURGER WITH MAYOR-OF-FLAVORTOWN GARLIC VEGAS FRIES.
Guy Fieri made a mistake that has ruined millions of men’s chances of getting any pussy whatsoever for 5-6 months, and turned it into an empire. An empire full of Fireball Whiskey Wings and donkey sauce.
PS,
This is the famous restaurant review of Guy’s American Kitchen and Bar in Times Square by some snobby pretentious prick who would be turned away at the border of Flavortown.
PPS,
I went to the Times Square restaurant with the Pardon My Take guys back when it was open. Dan and PFT were filming something and I went along for the ride because we had the company card. We got to order pretty much every single thing on the menu and try it out. Let’s just say it is not just a New York tragedy, but a national tragedy that that place was shut down by a bunch of hoity-toity douchebags who prefer fine French cuisine to General Tso’s Chicken Lollipops.
PPPS,
Guy didn’t like the place himself. Oh well.