All Hail the Tennessean

I can only assume that due to The Tennessean‘s prominence as a news source it likes to appear neutral. But we know better, and we thank them for it. They opted to do an entire expose on dreadlocks – mostly white (22/23 by my count, possibly 21/23) – at Bonnaroo. Mad props to them. Bask in it here.

And, just so you have something to look at in this post, here you go.

“If I’m honest with myself, this is not exactly what I had in mind when I decided to get dreadlocks.”

Be a champ and send me your original content DWPs!

The Sixth Circle of Hell

This post doesn’t have any theme besides pictures that just make me say, ‘WTF, guys?’

This is like a terrible dream. What if their dreads all got locked together and they couldn’t untangle them, like moose antlers, and they all died because they wanted to have a hair orgy? Was their mirth fleeting? I bet they had a cuddle party after this.

Seriously? The goatee and flavor saver, too? Come on, bro.

“I feel a little silly doing this. I hope this doesn’t make my dreads look stupid.”

I feel like maybe this is actually Rip Van Winkle, and he’s only just woken up and his hair was just like that. It’s what I hope, anyway. That looks like it would be heavy enough to hurt.  Or at least make your neck tired.


I love this photo. There’s the great patch of scalp you can see, the strands of hair trying to extricate themselves from the “dreads.” And then, is it just me, or do you also see a snub nosed monkey in between the two left-most dreads? It’s like the man in the moon! Or maybe it looks more like Admiral Ackbar…what do you see?

Send me your offenders.

Didgeridoos & Dreaded White People: An Unholy Union

As so many white people with dreadlocks like to believe they are on a continuously progressing path to self-actualization and enlightenment, it makes sense that they place a lot of importance on the presence of ancient primitive shit in their lives, reverting back to their roots and natural states, or whatever other nonsense (doubtlessly peppered with the insufferable non-word ‘grok’) spills ceaselessly from their lips. Nevertheless, in my research, I was surprised by a trend. If a white person is playing a didgeridoo, there’s a very good chance they have dreads. I don’t understand the particular draw of a particular instrument to people with exceptionally shitty judgment when it comes to their hair, but the connection is undeniable, as you will see below.

 Nothing says authenticity like the doofy wide-wale corduroy Tam o’Shanter from your grunge phase in the ’90s.

“I feel so connected to my adopted aboriginal brothers when I play the instrument of our people. Oh shit, where’s my sunscreen?”

Is a PVC didgeridoo pretty much the ultimate slap in the face of the didgeridoo?

Douchey double dreadlock didgeridoo bonus multiplier.

Tie-dye, dreadlocks, didgeridoo, bandanna, slightly befuddled expression…this guy has it all.

This dude has apparently made his living being a dreadlocked didgeridoo player. Sellout!

“I think ‘Long December’ would sound beautiful on the didge!”


This is just a smattering of my didgeridoo file. And here is this fantastic picture from Burning Man, which is a lovely opportunity for me to mention that if you’re going to Burning Man, I want your eyes! Now, admittedly, the fellow below isn’t playing the didgeridoo, but you can clearly see he is being seduced by its siren call, and has put on his sexiest garb to answer it. Hello, sailor!

Send me your DWP pics.

Nuptial Edition

Is nothing sacred? One would hope (this one would, anyway) that even the most fervent devotee of white dreadlocks would reconsider his/her hairpath as his/her impending nuptials grew nearer. In my research, it is clear that there are many who did not – or perhaps did, and erroneously decided maintaining them – even on D-Day – would be a good idea. As evidenced below, you will see that this is indeed not the case.

Toeing the Line of Absurdity:

“As an individual, I express my uniqueness by subscribing part and parcel to the neo earth mother/hippie look. It really encapsulates all of my free-thinking quirkiness.”

“We’re very ‘alt’ and into ‘counter culture,’ as you can see by my dreads and his gauged ears. Except on our wedding day, where we thought maybe we didn’t want to look like total tools. Only partial tools. Thank god for this hat.”

“Hey babe. Sorry my hair looks like crap, but I’m 100% committed to both it and you.”

“Ill-fitting business casual is as formal as these dreads allow. Any more formal and I might look doofy.”

“I hope I put enough flowers and colored shit in my hair to make it look good.”

Seizing the Line of Absurdity and Having Orgiastic Frenzied Sex with it:

“We’re so subversive. We’re really sticking it to tradition  with our dreads and ironic tuxedo t-shirt.”

I’m not sure what’s worse: his facial hair, or her head hair. Poll time.

“I’m so bummed I couldn’t find bridal Steampunk goggles.”

“That’s okay, your totally culturally conscious neo-tribal headpiece more than makes up for it.”

Keep an eye on those boots. I have great hope for this couple. This wedding obviously required real commitment – even the lingerie is Steampunk.

And, I saved the best for last. Ah, Russia. A country perpetually behind the times, aesthetically. A country populated by poor people and run by the absurdly rich. A lawless land of shameless displays of wealth, where if you want to have a hella crazy goth wedding, you do it like this: 

   What is it with those boots? Why would anyone wear them ever, let alone in their wedding?

I didn’t know either of The Twins could love. Hey, how much do clothes cost in The Matrix?

No doubt I have only scraped the surface of DWP weddings. Send me your DWP wedding  (or not) pics!

Steampunk Edition

I was unaware that dreads were A Thing with steampunk subculture. I typically try to ensure my involvement with all things steampunk is as minimal as possible. But then, in my research, I came across this:

I LOL’ed, IRL. It was a mirth that was hiding pain, though. It hurts to see puff sleeves and stripes abused like this. And the spikes on the mini-hat fascinator (which are so stupid they might warrant their own blog)? And the dreads? It was too much. But I was conflicted; frequently, it seems, these dreads are fake. If Dreaded White People is devoted to white dreads because they look crappy, and fake dreads can be made to look more like good dreads, is this really the place for them? (To be clear, the dreads above cannot be construed as ‘good,’ even in the smallest measurement possible. They have that hairball-cat vom thing going on. How’s that for failure? Even your fake dreads look like bodily waste.) Would a steampunk edition of DWP be legit?

I had to consult Professor Brock, expert on pop culture and aesthetics. He was immediately concerned: “It’s so necessary. We’re talking about bad style here, after all. If you’re white and have dreads that make you look like a total loser, you merit inclusion whether the dreads are your real hair or not.”

Additionally, a subculture such as steampunk that appropriates dreadlocks in order to define and enhance its “look” is patently offensive. Also, steampunk tramples all over Victorian fashion, appropriating history, as well, and indiscriminately exploiting it. This is indefensible. More germane to this site, though, it just looks fucking stupid. And so, the (first?) Steampunk Edition of Dreaded White People. Just when you thought white people with dreadlocks could not get anymore obnoxious, they start pulling this shit out:

“You look skeptical, but let’s be honest – we both know I look really cool. Just ignore the baseboard heater.”

“I like to incorporate Native American elements into my steampunk look out of respect.”

“If I can’t attract people by being myself, I’ll resort to a fantasy land where I can live in sweet oblivion. Being different makes me sexy.”

“Nothing says ‘suitable for wild, wild west shootout’ like Elle McPherson Intimates. Wait, where are my goggles? Oh, good. All set.”

“Maybe if I put on enough make up and jewelry to suspend my disbelief, I’ll finally feel attractive.”

“Hold up, this can’t be right. My pocket watch says I’m a total tool.”

And finally, in parting, this girl, who perhaps isn’t fully Steampunk, but she’s got the stupid mini-hat fascinator, gross dreads, those insufferable furry boots/legwarmers so popular amongst the Burner types, a corset, ruffled underwear, and a bustle made out of…I have no idea what that is. And, of course, the fucking elf ears. Obviously, this is where she belongs.

“I just want to take a moment to draw attention to my head, in case it was possible for you to look anywhere besides me right now. Thanks.”

Speaking of Burner types, Burning Man is almost upon us, and it is certain to be teeming with white people with dreads. I need sleeper agents on the ground, documenting the war crimes. Send your Burning Man pics, and any other offenders, to

Celebrity Edition

This author has a long history of making fun of celebrities. It is almost like an affliction with no effective treatment; how can one not mock people who put themselves in the public eye and then wear things like this or this (to be clear, she could weigh 30 pounds more or less and I would still mock this outfit relentlessly; there is no excuse now for those jeans, nor was there 15 years ago when Delia*s was selling them)? As pillars of society and shapers of contemporary culture, celebrities offer themselves to us for intense scrutiny. We must question these self-appointed representatives, purveyors, and/or creators of pop culture – morally, ethically, and aesthetically. Actually, it’s really only the aesthetic part that matters to me; let’s be honest, everything else is inessential. This entry is (mostly) not reflective of their talents; indeed there is much collective talent below. But when their hair detracts from whatever talent they do have, is it not incumbent upon us to tell them? And so comes the first slew of famous, despicable dreads, in descending order of celebrity (according to me). Several of these celebrities no longer have dreads, but unfortunately for them, as Superbad taught us, people don’t forget. We would be remiss to let this hair slaughter slip anonymously into the  annals of history. We have a duty. We must speak the truth. We are documentarians, all of us.


Korn (or KoЯn, if you’re really hardcore). They get top billing because so many of them have atrocious dreads. In this pic, 75% of them! As a side note, is it fair to describe Jonathan Davis’ vocals as showing an impressive range, varying between guttural monotone and nasally whine? 

“Hey there. Want to be in my band? Your dreads have to suck as much as our music. Shouldn’t be hard.”


White Zombie.  Apparently, when it comes to metal bands, dreadlocks really enhance their image. Is there something that suggests EDGY DANGER about dreads? Cultural appropriation…and consequent vilification? “Dreads are scary and unknown, as they come from historically scary and unknown people. This will be perfect to worry all those suburban soccer moms.”


Adam Duritz, of Counting Crows. His dreadlocks are more Sideshow Bob than Bob Marley, no?

Your hair should not suggest you are secretly a Conehead.


Ani DiFranco. Jesus, those are stupid.


Jeordie White, aka Twiggy Ramirez, of Marilyn Manson, A Perfect Circle, and NIN. Apparently, the mid to late ’90s were the golden age of metal/industrial dreads. How embarrassing.


“Do I scare you?…’cause that’s what I’m going for. Man, I really hope it’s working.”
Max Cavalera, formerly of Sepultura, currently of Soulfly. See what I mean? Apparently, things have only gotten worse over the years for his dreads. In fact, I’m not even 100% sure what to call all of…that.


Jason Castro. Perhaps more of a pseudocelebrity than actual, a former contestant on American Idol, which, I’m pretty sure, has yet to produce an actual American idol (Does the readership consider commercial success indicative of idolatry? If so, then I suppose that by that standard American Idol has, in fact, produced some idols. This author disagrees, let it be known.). This picture is so painful I don’t even know where to start, though apparently he has also been shopping at Delia’s circa 1998. Nice shirt, brah.


Crystal Bowersox. It’s really a shame that her incredible face is obliterated by her ridiculous dreads.


Promoe, a Swedish rapper in the group Looptroop Rockers. Admittedly, this is not a celebrity I have heard of, but as stated, this is a global effort. In this author’s opinion, if your hair resembles a beaver’s tail, it may be time to reassess your choices.


Zoe Keating, who, the internet says, is a famous cellist.  I thought Yo-Yo Ma pretty much had the market cornered on being a famous cellist. Her music is lovely, but this site is not about talent. It’s about bad hair. Despite her niche celebrity, I could not pass up ginger dreads on a white person almost as pale as your very own author.

Thus, Dreaded White People’s first Celebrity Edition is concluded. Who was left out? Submit your infamous and non-famous offenders.

Farmers’ Market Edition

Der Kommissar Mariela and I were at the farmer’s market one Sunday in Ballard when we happened upon a bonus white dreadlocks multiplier. Two earthmothers hawking their wares and diluting the general splendor for everyone.“Magda, I really admire the way your dreadlocks have taken on that organic snake-digesting-rodent shape. I hope one day mine can also articulate the circle of life so eloquently. Do you think I’ll ever get past the hairball-riddled-cat-vomit stage?”

“Magda, did you see that I made a necklace out of your hair? You are my true north.”

What is she doing to that bottle? Is she sticking her finger in the mouth? Once again, my strict policy of patronizing Dreaded White Mongers only with words, not cash, has saved me from who knows what – consumption,  Legionnaires’, psittacosis, gout.

Later, Der Kommissar Mariela sent me this prime specimen, which she captured shortly after I departed (I was apoplectic from DWP trauma and had to make my exit).

“I see this hot sauce is from New Mexico…but was it made by indigenous peoples like my jacket? No? Sorry, it’s not authentic enough for me.”

Send your offenders.

Dreaded, Middle Aged White People: The Suffering Continues

Der Kommissar Mariela is my #1 Seattle scout. She seems to have a special sense when white dreadlocks are near. To capture a middle aged white lady fearlessly displaying her ratty dreadlocks like a misguided peacock was truly a stroke of fortuitous genius – I suspect they are a rarity and am excited to be able to document such a specimen here. It takes a special sort to insist on bearing their white dreads through middle age. A special, unforgivable sort. Do not be fooled by the halo effect caused by all the white around this perpetrator. She is no angel, and we are wise to her; she will not be spared.

“After this, I think I’ll do some qigong and then roll in purifying dirt with my flesh-companion.”

Send me your offenders.