50 Years of Southern Church Hair

At the beginning of the 1960s, our former 50s ’do got slightly jacked up and flipped.

Even so, we still leaned toward the traditional—nothing too outlandish.

But then along came the bouffant...

Featuring (left to right): Bess Meyerson, Miss America Of 1945, Debra Dane Barnes Miss America 1968, Marie Beale Fletcher Miss America 1962, all in New York for a Luncheon at club 21.

And our church hair just got bigger and bigger. (Trivia question: Which one of the Supremes was born in Mississippi? Mary Wilson, in center of photo. You’re welcome.)

By the seventies, the bouffant had given way to straighter, more natural styles. But even so, the South’s MANY Miss Americas, like Phyllis George, still had sense enough to keep a teasing comb handy, especially on Sunday.

Turn away! Don’t look! That straight, “busted down the middle” hair of Marsha’s drove Southern Mamas crazy in the seventies, when Sissy wouldn’t put so much as a bow in her straight hair! (Reese Witherspoon has since helped Mama make her peace with stylishly sleek Sunday tresses.)

Fortunately for Mama, Southern girls rediscovered the perm in the mid-70s, bringing loose curls back to the sanctuary once again.

Eventually, y’all, we did this. Feathered hair for the Easter service is one vintage hairstyle that needs to stay in the time capsule. Ditto the prairie dress.

Clearly, these 80s ladies know how to handle a can of Aqua Net. And we respect that. They’re always welcome in our fellowship hall.

Here’s a variation on poufy 80s church hair—soft, yet big—with a bow-neck blouse to set it off.

Reba, honey, with hair like that, you could’ve sung with any gospel quartet in the 90s.

This beauty could be a Southern preacher’s wife from the 90s. She’s actually a Miss America from that era, but we couldn’t envision a better example of church hair if we tried. Note the gentle lift around the face, the shiny curls that look soft to the touch but could withstand gale-force winds. We salute you, Miss America. And since your name is Tara Dawn, we’d like to make you an honorary citizen of Mississippi. Or Texas.

Here we are in the late 2000s—when a powerful message still calls for hair that delivers. Thank you, Queen Esther Marrow, for showing us how it’s done.