The first glimpse of Nastassja Kinski’s brassy bob in Paris, Texas is a moment that stays with you. The instantly recognisable hairstyle has transcended its cinematic roots to become a lasting symbol of cool defiance. As Jane, the estranged wife navigating the desolate landscapes of the American Southwest, Kinski’s bob isn’t just a haircut – it’s a visual echo of the film’s melancholic mood, a style that feels as disjointed and enigmatic as the character herself.
There’s something slightly off about the haircut – the yellowy hue and asymmetry adding to the haunting atmosphere of Wim Wender’s melancholic Midwest and the enigmatic, empty deserts that dominate the film. Kinski’s cut is more than just a hairstyle; it’s a feeling, a moment, mysterious and nostalgic, and a subtle rebellion against sleek beauty standards. Even after 40 years, the bob keeps popping up everywhere: in fashion, in film, in the endless quest for reinvention.
“It’s iconic,” says Roman Sys, a hair artist based in London. “It’s one of my all-time favourite looks, especially in that scene at the peep show. It’s emotionally dramatic yet subtle. The bob – it’s perfect.” Sys breaks it down like this: Jane’s bob might look effortless, but there’s a structural precision that keeps it from looking too “done.” “The weight of her hair is cut in a classic one-length bob,” he explains, “but with very subtle graduation in the outline. That’s what gives it its movement, its character.” The secret, he says, lies in that almost triangular silhouette – the exact shape that most clients want to avoid. “Everyone says, ‘I want a bob, but not boxy or triangular,’” he laughs. “But on Jane, it’s exactly that shape that makes it so cool – and timeless.”
It’s interesting to think about how much this cut says without saying anything at all. Paris, Texas is a film that works through emotional layers – there are unspoken traumas, old wounds and hazy moments of connection told through dream-like sequences. Kinski’s hair seems to mirror that perfectly. It shifts with her story. “At the start of the film, her hair is wavy and soft, full of life,” Sys notes. “But as the story progresses, it becomes smoother, more controlled, reflecting her vulnerabilities.” Her bob becomes a symbol of her shifting identity – complicated, flawed and very human. It’s the kind of cut that stands out because it doesn’t scream for attention, but similarly, it sticks in the mind. As Sys puts it: “It’s like the little black dress of hair. It never gets old because it’s always being reinvented. The trick is in making it feel like you, like it was made for you.”
London-based gallerist Nina Ledowch, 26, is a devoted fan: “I’m a proud supporter of the bob. I’m on my second one.” Ledowch’s fascination with Kinski’s haircut first hit around 2013, through the faded, dreamy aesthetic and the golden age of Tumblr. “It felt radical,” she says, referring to the bleach-blonde and fuchsia angora combo we’ve grown to know and love. “I wasn’t brave enough to chop my hair then, but the seed was planted.” It wasn’t until 2019 that she finally took the plunge, just as the ‘bob frenzy’ began to sweep through her circle. “Suddenly, everyone around me was chopping off their hair – friends, acquaintances, randoms on Instagram,” Ledowch explains. “The ‘Italian bob,’ the ‘long bob’ – honestly, all of them were variations of the Paris, Texas bob. But there’s something about the original that’s untouchable.”
Despite the ubiquity of the bob, Ledowch couldn’t resist its allure. “I was about to turn 26, and I wanted change,” she says. “The bob felt like freedom, but also bold. It’s light and careless, and very much me. There’s a kind of superiority to the blonde bob. It can be innocent, but also dramatic. It’s a statement.” Despite the cliché of the post-breakup haircut, the transformative power of the chop is not to be understated. As Ledowch attests, it wasn’t just a haircut, it was a reinvention: “When it’s done perfectly, you feel like a new person,” she says.
For Nina Maria, a 26-year-old writer, the allure of the Paris, Texas bob goes deeper than aesthetics and the bob phenomenon of the late 2010s. “It’s the haircut equivalent of unrequited love,” she says. “You know, the one you love but who doesn’t love you back? It’s the situationship I’d jump into, trading my long hair for it, knowing it’s a bad idea. I think it’s beautiful, and I want it. But I know for a fact that on me, a bob looks more like Velma than a cool cut.” Despite the appeal, the bob is a cut to be respected and not undertaken lightly – regrowth is a lengthy process, and waist-length extensions are a quick way to hit your overdraft. “Thankfully, I didn’t do it – see Velma,” Maria says. “But there’s something undeniably sexy about a bob and a book, right?”
Kinski’s Jane is a woman on the edge – perhaps why she’s so beloved by legions of internet sad girls – haunted by her past but resolutely strong and chic in the face of adversity. She’s caught between worlds, her history and present colliding in ways that are both painful and beautiful. The bob, with its bleached-blonde ends and slightly wonky shape, reflects this tension perfectly. It’s both a shield and a vulnerability, encapsulating a woman trying to hold herself together as everything around her crumbles.
The Paris, Texas bob is not about perfection; it’s about transformation, embracing a changing identity and all the mess and chaos that comes with it. For anyone who’s ever impulsively chopped their hair in a bid for reinvention, that bob becomes a talisman. As the bob continues its reign as one of the most iconic hairstyles in cinematic history, the reposts show no sign of slowing down. Decades after Paris, Texas first graced the screen, Kinski’s brassy, boxy bob remains an enduring symbol of beauty on its own terms – imperfect, unpredictable, and completely unforgettable, qualities any Tumblr girlie will be all too familiar with.
