Llamas, Luxe Scents, and Blow Dryers: The New Age of Teenage Boys

Weight: Irrelevant, but feel lighter knowing my Dyson Airwrap survived another day.

Alcohol units: 1 (because the house smells like the entire duty-free perfume department exploded).

Hair product count: 6 (and that’s just what I found inside #1's room).

Teenage trends: Utterly baffling.

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Walked into the boys’ bathroom this morning and nearly passed out. Not from the usual boy-odor combo of wet towels and unflushed toilet, but because the entire room smelled like the fragrance section of Nordstroms (or Harvey Nichols for those from my Homeland!). John Paul Gaultier, Yves Saint Laurent, Dior Sauvage—it’s like he is curating his own luxury cologne museum.

I swear, 30 years ago, teenage boys weren’t hoarding cologne collections or perfecting “effortless” hair texture. They were too busy quoting Wayne’s World (“Party on, Garth!”) and perfecting the art of spinning their mixtapes back into shape with a pencil. Hair trends in the ‘90s were all about making a statement, whether it was spiky (hello, NSYNC-era Justin Timberlake), grungy (inspired by Kurt Cobain’s shampoo-optional look), or perfectly gelled into submission.

Now? Teenage boys are beauty influencers in training. They spend more time in the bathroom than I do, which isn't saying much, and their obsession with cologne is borderline pathological. I caught #1 spraying himself the other day—four sprays to the neck, two to each wrist, and a flourish in the air for good measure. What is he preparing for? The prom? A romantic getaway to the French Riviera? He’s going to math class.

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The Hair Saga

Let’s not even start on the hair. Except I have to, because every morning before school I am yelling up the stairs “enough with the hair, we have to go!”. The obsession with texture is next level. I opened the cupboard yesterday to find not one, not two, but three bottles of hair texturizing powder. It’s like dry shampoo but for boys who want their hair to look like it’s been styled by a desert windstorm.

And the blow dryers. Oh, the blow dryers. Oh, the indignation that I won't let him use my very fancy (and rarely used!) Dyson Airwrap, the holy grail of hair tools that cost more than some of my actual appliances. It’s not a regular hair dryer—it’s a luxury experience. It has attachments, a sleek design, and a little bit of pizzazz that makes me feel like my hair belongs in a shampoo commercial. I don't want all his hair goop on MY prized possession!

He spends hours fluffing, shaping, and tweaking his locks into what can only be described as Llama Hair Chic: voluminous, artfully messy, and suspiciously perfect. And in case anyone thinks I am exaggerating, and making this craziness up, just google Teenage Boys + Llamas.....trust me, it is a thing! Thank you Tik Tok/YouTube!

I will not share an actual photo of #1’s Exquisite Llama Hair, incase he actually finds this post and promptly cuts me out of his life forever…oh, please, no! 🤦‍♀️

Comparative Reflection

It’s wild to think about the evolution. Back in the day, my brothers had polar opposite approaches to hair. One proudly rocked a ponytail that made him look like he was auditioning for a part in Highlander. The other brother, however, went full Kojak when he started balding at 22. No need for powders, sprays, or mood lighting to achieve the perfect tousle.

Today’s boys are basically walking advertisements for Sephora. They know what a "skin barrier" is. They’ve memorized fragrance notes. #1 told me that John Paul Gaultier’s Le Beau is "too overplayed" and that YSL Libre is "a better investment." I nearly fainted. Investment?! At his age, I was investing in various colors of Levis 501s (purple, turquoise, yellow, red…I had them all!) and oversized men's rugby sweaters.

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Lessons learned:

1. Teenage boys today are way too fancy.

2. Dyson needs to release a parental lock system because I will fight for my Airwrap.

3. If #1 put half as much effort into homework as he does into his hair, I’d be raising a Nobel Prize winner.

Also, if I catch even a whiff of Le Beau before 8 a.m. again, I’m confiscating all colognes until he learns that less is more. Well, maybe not the YSL. That one’s actually quite nice.