He Fa on the Blond Bob

The blond bob flips heavily outward at the sides like a little bell cover; beneath it is a broad-shouldered brown checked suit, with a tie earnestly knotted in purple-red and navy diagonal stripes. No glasses add expression to the eyes. He Fa's face is so calm that it seems not yet to know where the joke is. This lack of cooperation makes the hairstyle's activity all the more apparent.

A joke often relies on a structure recognizable in advance. Too round above, too formal below: viewers quickly find the discrepancy. Repeating the structure makes the character memorable and may also make laughter easy. No new situation is needed; the body need only reappear for those around it to receive a familiar service. The performer is fixed at the site of the first success.

I want to let the blond hair occasionally be just hair. The character can be silent, serious, or carry out a small act with no incongruity at all, without continually providing entertainment. If remaining funny is the only way to remain welcome, an extravagant look becomes another uniform. The wearer has the right to let a joke fail to happen today, even if it pleased people yesterday.

Choosing a striking appearance does, of course, invite looks, and not every response can be required to follow one's own interpretation. A more useful boundary asks whether the laughter allows me to take part, whether it can stop, and whether it treats the body as something available for arbitrary handling. Shared humor moves back and forth; one-way ridicule continually extracts a benefit from the same place without answering for it.

I keep the bell-like hairstyle and let the checked suit stay serious. The next laugh may come from a crooked tie or an unexpected conversation, without always taxing this blond head. When laughter stops, the character should still have a face worth continuing to spend time with.