A Brush With Greatness: How Mohawk Bob Became an Unlikely Internet Star

The silent-era movie star Lon Chaney, who was originally from Colorado Springs, was known as "The Man of a Thousand Faces" thanks to his many pioneering makeup looks. However, his numbers pale compared to the stats of fellow Coloradan and social media success story "Mohawk Bob" Bagnall, who could easily be called "The Man of Two Thousand Mohawks." That's a rough estimate of how many versions of the distinctive punk hairdo Bob has created and displayed on social platforms as part of his quest to "bring smiles back one mohawk at a time," as he puts it.

"I've become a character, in a way," he says, admitting that it's "kind of odd to say it that way." His consistent production of creative hair content has gained him more than 200,000 followers between Instagram and TikTok since 2018. His haircut's characteristic sweep extends fifteen inches above his head, making a great canvas on which to paint colorful designs, as Bagnall does almost every day with the help of his wife, Julie.
He and Julie might make as many as ten to fourteen different mohawks to display on his social media in a busy week. They live in a quiet Littleton neighborhood within sight of the McLellan Reservoir, and both still keep a nine-to-five job — Bob working at a gas station and Julie in education. They also parent three kids, ages seventeen, fifteen and six, and try to keep up with a rambunctious Goldendoodle named Cooper.

On their street or walking Cooper around the reservoir, Bob and his hair are by now a local fixture, one that he says his neighbors quickly embraced: "Most of them really actually liked it right from the get-go...because it's just different." Surprisingly, it seems to be extra popular with seniors. "The older people love mohawks," he says. "It's a great neighborhood." His kids are also mostly in favor of Bob's hair being the star of the household, with the exception of the fifteen-year-old, who's still slightly unsure about all of it. "Daughter loves it, oldest son loves it. Middle son...he's gettin' used to it, let's say," Bob admits. "If I'd go out without one, it would make him happy."

One family member who isn't on the fence is Julie. She's "the artiste," Bob says — the secret weapon behind their massive catalogue of hair art, and the tireless creative partner who figures out the best ways to get the mohawk up and painted.

Surprisingly, she has no background experience working with hair, and Bob is her only client. They've mostly gotten to where they are by trial and error. "When we started, it was only two inches," Julie recalls. To stick it up, "we started with gel, but then it outgrew gel. ... I just went back to the late ’80s, early ’90s — hairspray and a blow dryer — and that seems to work." She also makes all the stencils, having gone through a similarly long process of experimentation in cutting and applying them.
Working for both commissions and fun, they've made mohawk art for advertising, for charity, to publicize local causes like the "Save the Esquire" campaign, and for birthdays, anniversaries and memorials. Most designs by far have stemmed from fan-requested shout-outs for musicians new and old, from Jeff Buckley to Ice Spice. The mohawks have also showcased films (horror is a favorite genre), Casa Bonita and the Littleton High School Marching Band. There was even a mohawk calling out "Karens," and one enshrining "rizz" as the word of the year for 2023. In short, if you have a message to put on what may be the world's most recognizable mohawk, Mohawk Bob wants to hear from you.

Bob's affability is arguably as much a part of his viral success as the eye-catching ’dos. He typically pairs each creation with a short video of himself (in profile, to best capture the ’hawk), invariably starting with his catchphrase, "M-o-o-o-hawk Bob here!" Other than stretching out that first syllable, he keeps it short and snappy: a brief explanation of what happens to be featured on his mohawk that day, followed by a recommendation to his audience to "check them out, my friends." He says that getting in and out quickly with his content is essential. Now in his fifties, Bob's a bit older than the average TikToker, but he has a keen understanding of social media's frenetic pace nevertheless.

"If you get to thirty seconds, you're probably twenty seconds too long," he says. "I hate to say it that way, but people are like this — " he mimes scrolling on a phone. "So you have to get their attention quick, or it's not gonna go."

That's not to say that he doesn't have time for his fans — far from it. Bob is deeply appreciative of their support and responds to every message and many comments personally, which is no easy task when you have tens of thousands of followers. A light sleeper, he often wakes before 4 a.m., grabs the phone and starts working on replies. "I can't leave you hanging," he says. "I don't think that's appropriate."

He's a people person, and it's difficult to say what he likes more: having crazy hair or making new friends. "I love talking to people. ... I'm always good with that. I like to learn about people, too — that's important to me. You don't know who you're going to become friends with," he notes, adding that social media is the perfect environment for that. "I mean, [there are] people I never thought I would make friends with." He often reacts with the feeling that "you're 100 percent opposite of me, but we click, just by talking and going over their posts and my posts."

It was Bob's quirky sense of humor that got his mohawk gig started in the first place. Hair-wise, up until six and a half years ago, "I was a normal, straitlaced guy with a flat-top," he says. He grew up in Littleton, graduated high school there and helped out at local businesses such as Romano's Pizzeria and his brother's carpet-cleaning company before settling down and starting a family. He was working as a bakery manager for King Soopers when on a whim he decided to do something fun for "crazy hair day" at his son's elementary school. "I told my wife I'd shave it off the next day," he recalls, adding, "I lied." He kept the new look, and started having so much fun with it that he began to show it off on Facebook. As it became more popular, he enlisted Julie to create designs, eventually deciding to start an Instagram page.
It was on Instagram that the designs really took off, and Julie and Bob's following grew into the thousands. Then one day, someone on the East Coast reached out for a commission. Julie calls it a turning point, even though she thought it was a joke at first. "A doughnut shop in Washington, D.C., reached out to him and said, 'How much for my logo on his hair?'' she recalls. "And I was like 'Oh, they're joking.' So I just said, '75 bucks.' I just threw it out there, and he paid it. I was like, 'Wait, what?'"

Bob's signed picture still hangs in that shop today. "You know what's funny? Every so often, somebody sends me a picture that says, 'I'm in the doughnut shop, and I just saw your picture,'" he says.

The commissions have come a long way since then. Businesses that Bagnall has worked with range from local to international, tiny to massive. He helped launch a new flavor with Takis and promoted a Super Bowl contest with Doritos. The shaving company Manscaped, which has been advertising on fortune cookies lately, asked him to try out its new beard hedger for his side-shaving maintenance. Smaller collaborations have come from clothing companies, bail-bond providers and smoking-cessation services, as well as smoke shops. Each gets a custom mohawk, and most of the work is still done the way that he and Julie began it, right in the family kitchen.

The collaboration with the biggest "wow" factor was last year's appearance in a music video for "Where She Goes," a single from Puerto Rican rapper Bad Bunny's sixth album. For that one, Bob and Julie got to take a trip out to a secret location in the California desert, where they were waved past security to join the filming of an atmospheric party scene. Each of the guests was shot separately, and when it was his turn, they seated Bagnall on a big Harley, sporting a pink mohawk emblazoned with "Nadie Sabe."

"They had a big crane, with the lights on me and me alone, out in the middle of that big dry lake," he recalls. "It was so cool. We were smiling a lot."
The video performance was definitely a milestone, but the husband-and-wife team continues to look toward the future. They'd love to score some sponsors from the professional hair world, especially as they go through almost a full can of paint per mohawk side. They've reached out to everyone from Party City to Unilever, but so far, no dice. Other projects they're working on include a line of merchandise, now available through Instagram, and a new official Mohawk Bob website being prepped for a summer launch. Bob is also a partner in ThunderKnight Entertainment, an indie film production company led by Littleton producer, actor and director Jimmy Drain.

At the end of the day, Mohawk Bob is definitely here to stay. After all, his hair is improbably healthy after years of heat, hairspray and bleach, still lush and full (when it's not spiked up), with a hairline that hasn't budged a millimeter. And after picking up a hearse to drive around a couple of years ago, he's more recognizable than ever, trucking out to such events as HearseCon with a hairstyle that barely fits in the car, the stereo booming with Aqua or Marilyn Manson.

"I'm just getting started," he concludes. "The world is my oyster."

Find Mohawk Bob content and merchandise on Instagram.com.