What if you had no hair? Not cause you were surviving cancer or had that other disease where your hair falls out or just never grows in. What if you just woke up one morning and all your hair was gone, for no real reason. Just gone. Maybe it becomes invisible or it’s all there, on your pillow and among your sheets, just not attached to your head.
Could you cope? Sure, you’d freak out at first. I have no idea what my first thoughts would be. There are so many options.
I’d really miss my hair. I like it. It’s shiny with brown and red streaks, like bronze through it. I really like the way it curls too.
On the plus side I wouldn’t have grey hair. That would be gone too. Not that it’s a great plus, but it is there. A small silver lining.
Of course you could get a wig. But, you’d have that initial wig-getting to get through. It would feel strange to leave the house with a bald head. Even if you wore a hat or scarf over it. Underneath you’d still have that bare skinned head. Even if no one could see it you’d see it yourself, without any mirrors.
It’s funny that the latest trend in grooming expects women to have no hair on their body, except their head. Well, no facial hair other than eyelashes and eyebrows. Someone should invent some other hair removal option. The creams and gels aren’t good for your skin. The shaving doesn’t last long enough and you end up with stubble and skin that’s been scraped raw or at least dry. Wax just seems painful, another female torture. They say it takes the hair a long time to grow back and it becomes weaker, thinner each time. It doesn’t go away though. Lasers and electrolisis (however you spell it) is just too expensive.
If all your hair was gone, the hair from the top of your head I mean, you’d be the opposite of the fantasy woman, the semi-hairless version. Getting dates would be really tough, at least with the Internet dating men crowd. They don’t seem quite into the reality of women, with hair in the wrong places.
I think someone should bring back the Real Women fad. Does anyone else remember that? It came and went like pet rocks. But, I remember. I think about it when I look at the hair that isn’t on my head and the other imperfections that are me.