I bet you thought a comb was just a comb, didn't you? Think again, before you make a terrible social blunder that flushes your 'street cred' straight down the drain.
In the 1950s, you could get a nice manly comb from a lovely display card, like this one from the Hair Archives. That rather space-age illustration of 'Don-Q' lets you know you're not buying any old comb, but a man's comb. Heaven forbid you might accidentally buy a women's one by mistake!
Totally different period and genre, but it reminded me of that brilliant Japanese zombie rock 'n' roll B movie 'Wild Zero' we watched at work for Ed's leaving do, when no-one else was around in the holidays. The wannabe hero accidentally got out the wrong sort of comb out to do his quiff, but the hip be-quiffed boys in the band thought it was like a comb his mum would use. It didn't do much for his image (shockingly uncool) and I've never looked at a comb in the same way since.
Anyway, I'd better get back to my writing, which also happens to be about manly things (aka gender theory) today. I've got work tomorrow and I'm being 'appraised'. Someone said it was a 'necessary evil' of having a salaried post, which is probably right. And we're discussing the outcomes of that research review we had recently, so at least I'll have a better idea of what job-stuff is looming on the horizon.