Oak Lawn resident Daniel Lewis gives ‘Shear Genius’ some Dallas style

BRUSH UP: Lewis says the real tool of his trade isn’t a pair of scissors. It’s all about a Centrix Technique 450 Thermal Brush. - DANIEL A. KUSNER/Dallas Voice

This week, Dallas can be proud of its big ol’ stereotypical hair. Local beauty engineer Daniel Lewis just won the first elimination challenge on “Shear Genius,” Bravo’s hairstyling version of “Project Runway.”

In Wednesday’s debut episode, Lewis faced two tasks: cutting while blindfolded (he placed third), and crafting a Wilma Flintstone-inspired beehived updo, which he won, giving him immunity for the next challenge.

It seems odd that Lewis would expose himself to the horrors of reality television — a genre that constantly rewards bad behavior. His career trajectory appears to be going through the roof: After two years of majoring in interior design, he dropped out of Florida State University to get his cosmetology license. By the time he was 22, Lewis had already had opened his own salon in Tallahassee. In 2006, he moved to North Texas to open Green Peridot, a 20-station upscale salon in Frisco.

Last Friday, Lewis explained that he had to wedge his Dallas Voice interview into a packed schedule that included styling the winner of the Miss Frisco pageant before he headed off to New York for a “Shear Genius” party. Some clients pay almost $300 for an appointment with Lewis’ scissors.

At this stage in his career, wouldn’t competing on a reality show be a step backwards?
“Not at all,” Lewis says. “I see it as a new experience. And it’s not like I’m bored. But I love TV. And I especially love reality TV. Believe me — I know how awful hairdressers can be. But I want to show that you don’t have to be like …” Lewis curls his fingers into an attack position and growls like a feral cat.

Since he’s only 29, Lewis’ timing might be perfect for joining the ranks of reality TV. And the cameras do a good job at capturing his outgoing and effervescent personality. While he’s bound to an ironclad contract to not reveal details about how he fared on the show, Lewis assures that he stayed in the competition for a “long time.”

Dallas actually has two reasons to tune in to “Shear Genius:” State Thomas salon owner Matthew Tully is also competing, and the only thing Tully loves more than his scissors is his wife.

But Lewis — a gay Oak Lawn resident and Cathedral of Hope member — may be the biggest civic promoter of local culture. In person and on the show, he prides himself in “styling Dallas hair.”

Being a male who has never forked over more than $20 on a buzzcut, Lewis fills me in on what “Dallas hair” culture is all about.

“You know what I mean, when a client takes their hairdresser with them on vacation,” Lewis explains.

What extravagantly indulgent universe does Lewis live in? Is he talking about superstars like Paula Abdul or Paris Hilton?

“No, normal people. Listen, I moved to Dallas because I appreciate the conservative Southern culture here. But also, Dallas is a very financially secure city,” he says.

Oh, he means he’s caters to “the rich wives biz.”

Perhaps oil baron society has some life left in it. And Dallas is hot and humid, so it takes a real pro to keep these ladies from looking ghetto.

“Dallas hair is beautifully styled and professionally blown out,” Lewis explains. “Sometimes that means a bit too much hairspray, but this bitch is going to roll home in her husband’s Bentley and maybe do the pool boy in the afternoon. And I would catch all kinds of hell if one of my clients showed up to an event and was photographed with their hair looking all flat,” Lewis says.

Who represents Dallas hair the best?

“Jessica Simpson,” Lewis says. “She’s always professionally blown out. And you’ll never find her in a scrunchy.”

Who has the worst hair?

“Britney! It’s just horrible and inexcusable,” Lewis says while slamming his fist on my office armchair.

However, after he finished the five-week “Shear Genius” shoot, Lewis had a come-to-Jesus hair experience.

“After I got back from Los Angeles, I had a real Britney moment and just shaved it all off,” Lewis says. “I felt like I needed a change. And it helped. It was weirdly liberating.”

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This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition June 27, 2008.