Magic Hair Spray

 

This option refers to a popular late night infomercial from the 90’s.  At first I thought it was a joke.  A bald guy smiles at an attractive woman.  Rather than reciprocate, she frowns, gestures to her friend, and they both ruthlessly mock him.  Then she picks up a banana shake and throws it in his face.  

Our dejected baldie limps home and towels himself off in front of the bathroom mirror.  Suddenly, with a bright flash, a genie from the fifth dimension materializes and hands him a can of magic hair restorer.  He sprays it on.  Waits five minutes for it to dry (time-lapse).  Then he approaches the same woman.  

Now she is seated on a park bench, beside her friend, gazing off listlessly in the direction of squirrels.  She appears forlorn because, while her friend is enjoying a delicious banana shake, she has impulsively tossed hers at the face of a random stranger.

Baldie approaches.  Same clothes same face.  Nothing has changed except for the spray on hair.  He smiles and waves, albeit a bit shyly because the memory of the sugary assault still lingers.  This time, our forlorn blonde smiles back.  She even blows him a kiss and motions emphatically with her index finger for him to come join her and her friend on the bench.  Giddily, he nuzzles between them.  Their legs commence to swing ebulliently at the knees while the blonde removes a tube of ruby red lipstick from betwixt her cleavage and applies to it her lips with gusto.  The camera zooms out.  End scene.  We can only assume that a public threesome of the nastiest and most decadent variety has ensued.

What this stuff really is.  Spray paint.  Really.  I had a twenty year old friend who started going bald his senior year in high school.  Within a couple years he had developed a deeply receded widows peak – a la Phil Collins- along with a softball sized blank spot on the crown of his head.  I watched him apply this magic hair spray before a date.  He claimed it worked.  If it did it’s only because he stood over six feet tall and tended to date women on the shorter side.  

Had he dated a woman his exact height or taller, she would’ve easily discovered the spray on subterfuge. At the bare minimum she would’ve had a chuckle at his expense.  She might’ve even launched a banana shake straight into his unsuspecting face.     

    In my opinion this is a silly option, akin to rubbing shoe polish on one’s shiny dome.  Try it if you are cheap, up for a good laugh, or exceptionally tall and thus not prone to discovery.  If an actual magic fairy materializes from an unseen dimension and hands you a bottle of the stuff, obviously you should follow her advice.  But in reality, the fairy was an unemployed actress who blew the producer because he conned her into believing a non-speaking role, in a shitty late night informercial was good for her career.  

Verdict: bullshit.  

 

The Pharmacological Option

 

The first well known brand to push this approach was Rogaine.  They too advertised on late night television which resulted in the product becoming a meme for mockery amongst my young, well endowed friends.  (Endowed with a full head of hair you pervs.)  

There are two chemical ingredients used to promote hair regrowth – Finasteride and Minoxidil.  They come in spray on, topical applications or can be swallowed as tablets.  

This stuff actually works.  A close friend of mine started on the pills in his mid 30’s, has been taking them daily for over a decade and maintains a dense thicket atop his pate.  He swears he has suffered none of the negative side effects, but he is also extremely vain, prone to bluster, and would never confess any weakness to his friends.  

I myself have used the topical hair spray and found the results to be impressive.  I chose topical spray over tablets because I wanted to avoid having hair regrow on a location of its own choosing – such as my chest or shoulders. After six months of consistent use the bald spot on the crown of my skull was covered over in thin brown strands that resemble the hair of a toddler.  Not perfect but a definite improvement.  The pale patch of skull is now hardly noticeable from the distance of a few yards.

Unfortunately I didn’t initiate this course of action until my bald spot was quite prevalent.  Now that it’s covered in a thin layer of hair, there is speculation amongst my friends and associates.  A woman who occasionally appears in my social and professional orbit, who alternates between flirty and bitchy in our interactions, hinted that she had a friend that had gotten “Plugs”.  She did this while staring directly at me. While I missed the cue in the moment, I came to understand her comment as a subtle challenge for me to confirm or deny that I had undergone the surgical procedure.  

Being slow to pick up on the indirect cues of female conversation (we’re better wired to throw punches or dodge them) I let her comment pass without reacting.  Being married I’m not bothered.  My wife doesn’t seem to care either way, or has been too polite to comment.  If this other woman suspects that I’ve gotten surgically implanted “Plugs” as a cure for my baldness then I’ll take it as a sign of success.  

I’ve thought about how I might respond to Alice when we cross paths again.  After all, I don’t want her spreading rumors. I’ve settled on being direct and confessing to the use of chemical agents.  Perhaps it will peak her curiosity and she’ll ask if I can recommend a brand for her husband.  Perhaps she’ll run her fingers through my baby strands of hair and we’ll collapse to the floor in a sudden, passionate embrace. But it’s been nearly a month since we’ve crossed paths, so the moment is likely lost forever.

Side effects include death as always.  Along with a litany of potential terribleness that includes weakened hard ons.  While this is no doubt disturbing, I myself haven’t had any trouble in this department friends.  Oh no I assure you, stiff as a rock on steroids.  You can hang your umbrella on the thing if you care to.  

Verdict: given 6 months it works, there are however potential side effects and if you stop using it your new hair falls back out.  

Of course nothing is without side effects.  The side effect of exiting your front door is being run over by a truck.  It is up to the user to determine acceptable levels of risk.  Don’t be a pussy.  

 

Wearing a har or beret

 

This simple and obvious option speaks for itself.  However there are complexities to be considered.  Such as, if you wear a hat on a date, or are wearing it in a bar where you meet a woman for the first time, what do you do on follow up meetings?  At some point, you’ll have to go without the hat which is not completely without risk. The potential for confusion or upset over a sense of deception is inherent.  I believe this topic is covered in excruciating detail in a Curb Your Enthusiasm episode.  If you are seriously considering or presently employing the hatted option I would refer you there.

 

Hair Plugs

 

Surgery can be expensive and painful.  However, from what I’ve seen of hair transplantation procedures they seem to be effective and relatively risk free.  If women suffered from female pattern hair loss in record numbers as do men, we’d be forced to declare a public holiday.  School teachers would assign children poster projects and essays on the ravages of alopecia, focusing blame on the patriarchy and modern transportation.  NFL players would  don fuchsia colored helmets for at least one game per season.  You know the drill.  As for you, no such luck.  You’re a man, so you’re easily replaceable.  Don’t fool yourself.  Practically speaking this means that it may be difficult, even if you have health insurance, to attain assistance with the financial burden.

It’s rumored that Elon Musk employed this surgical technique.  Before and after photos are quite convincing. Of course, he can afford to scalp a dozen employees on a daily basis and have his assistants staple their flowing locks to his pate each morning before breakfast, if he so desires.  This experimental approach may have even been discussed in the Epstein files.

 

Full Shaven

 

Unless you are an NBA player don’t do it.  I’m wiling to broaden the fatwa on shaved heads to include all potential NBA players – meaning young black men.  It works for them.  Even when their tan heads are glinting in the reflection of a thousand overhead stadium lights and strobe camera flashes.  

In average daily practice it looks silly.  I have white friends that employ this tactic.  They combine it with excessive indoor hat wearing and feel that it works to a degree.  I suppose it’s all a matter of preference and everything is relative after all.  (Though the culture seems to be turning a corner on that belief.)

My problem with this approach is that it betrays a deep psychological need to triumph over nature’s adversity rather than humbly accepting her protocols.  Some see strength in the former approach.  Myself, I see petty vindictiveness and denial.  In choosing to shave oneself bald, reacting against nature’s whims, are you not instead calling even more attention to her omnipotence – which is what she craves after all?  Isn’t humble acceptance and resignation the true mark of maturity and strength? 

“You can’t take my hair,” screams the middle aged man into the mirror, lathering his moistened head in thick dollops of shaving cream. “Only I can take my hair!”  He lifts the safety razor in stubborn defiance!  This is the grooming equivalent of,

“You can’t fire me, I quit.”   

The alternative however, modeled by monks and clowns, all bald on top with a thick ring of hair in the lower scalp regions, is no more desirable.  A tragic outcome either way. 

 

Toupee  

 

When done well this is an exceptionally convincing take.  But it commits you to a double life and endows you with a secret you must be willing to take to the grave.  All the complexities of the hat/beret option are at play here but even more so. 

How many successful toupee wearers walk amongst us?  Their baldness professionally concealed by industry experts.  The true number we shall never know.  

I’ve seen instagram videos of bald children, rendered hairless by disease or the treatment thereof, given a new lease on happiness and belonging with the application of a perfectly customized toupee.  How could any decent, moral human being deny them this pleasure?  Their right!

Amongst the adult wearers, we know celebrities don toupees and “hair pieces” for roles all the time.  Tommy Lee Jones was one well known example – appearing with a full head of hair on screen and at red carpet events, only to be revealed by paparazzi as completely bald while skulking about in public.  He had an excuse, and the riches and fame to do as he so pleased.  

While we may never fully ascertain the precise number of successful toupee wearers it’s easy to spot the failures.  My middle school math teacher for one.  The giveaway was having a jet black toupee coupled with bleach white sideburns.  Was that an intentional confession on his part?  Some underlying psychological need to betray his own attempt at subterfuge, thus absolving him of guilt?  On the contrary, did he wear it with defiant pride as a fashion accessory?  I don’t know.  He was gay but I don’t think that had anything to do with it.  

We’ve all seen the less than perfectly rendered toupee wearers out in the wild.  They remain fair game for mockery, ridicule and contempt.  If humans were decent we would recognize their underlying insecurity and reward the attempt to conquer their disadvantage with empathy, kindness and good huzzah.  But the feral children in us sense their vulnerability instead, as the ideal location for a targeted attack.  The perfect are of focus on which to inflict maximum damage to ego and psyche.  (Some adults get religion on occasion and settle down ever so slightly.)  

Only the toupee wearer knows how best to go about revealing his predicament to loved ones.  If he’s already secured a mate in youth, before the dramatic reversal of fortune ensues, perhaps she’ll understand and be supportive of his desire to maintain appearances.  But if he’s wearing the thing while out on the dating scene he’ll always harbor the fear of discovery, or of revealing his secret before a tight and irrevocable bond of love has been established.  

Once revealed, the female’s reaction may be harsh and unpredictable.  If he’s lucky and she accepts the necessity of his deception, ex post facto,  he’ll then be faced with dragging his loving partner into an unending conspiracy of silence.  

 

Red Light Therapy

 

Haven’t tried it.  Don’t know anyone who has.  The idea is you sit under the red lights, which emit a special regrowth frequency, for sustained periods of time.  Then voila – a well coiffed Yetti springs forth from your rejuvenated scalp.  Seems like trendy bullshit but I could be wrong. 

 

Stoicism

 

For men losing their hair in their adult years – it seems there is no easy option.  Perhaps the best bet is to do nothing and proudly withstand natures onslaught.  Let her do as she pleases.  Better yet, pay her no mind whatsoever.  Pretend not to even notice. The path revered by stoics.  

Whatever path you choose, just keep one thing in mind fellas.  It gets worse.  And either way, no one gives a fuck.