Starting Out

At 62, it seems like I've ALWAYS worn a hairpiece. It all started one day shortly after my 23rd birthday, when I was walking down the street in Baltimore, minding my own business. A girl passing by, probably about my age or a little younger, who I had never seen before in my life (at least I don't THINK I had. As a gay guy, though, I may not have noticed!) said to me as she passed, "HI BALDY!"

I was devastated. While I had often been teased about something or other during my earlier years, for some reason this comment really got to me. I had realized from about the age of 20 that I was losing my hair but it wasn't something I was able to face, until that moment. Within days I had decided to do something about it. The first attempt at covering it up was to go to a department store and pay about $40 for a wig! The date was Novermber 18, 1965. I can't imagine what this must have looked like, and fortunately there are no pictures. It was a generic, one-size-fits-all device which was held on my head by some kind of springs built into the sideburns! This was something I only wore sporadically while I decided if I wanted to continue on down the fake-hair route. The only comment I remember during this time was when I wore it on a visit with my best friend to his parents. My best friend was sweet enough not to have commented on it, but when we arrived at his parents house and went in, his father took one look at me and exclaimed, "Whats that you've got on your head!?", and dissolved into gales of laughter! I don't remember what my reply was, but according to my friend, I simply managed a weak, and indignant, "Well!"

In any event, after wearing that thing just "casually" for about 6 months, I took the plunge. I looked in the phone book under "hair replacement". I made an appointment with a barber in suburban Baltimore and went to see him. This of course was my first exposure to the process of hairpiece fitting that was to become part of my life from then on. How it works, for the uninitiated, is this: the barber puts Saran wrap all over my head. He draws with Magic Marker on the Saran wrap, the outline of my bald area. Then he totally covers the Saran Wrap with white cloth tape, and finally removes the whole thing from my head. The adhesive tape makes the "mold" of the head hold its shape, and the outline drawn by the magic marker can be seen from the inside. Then he cuts out the outline of the bald area, leaving a mold from which the hairpiece will be made. He snips a little of my hair for color match, and sends the whole thing off somewhere. I have never gotten over feeling embarrassed and kind of humiliated during that process.

So about 6 weeks later, the barber called me, saying the hairpiece is in. I was SO nervous that first time. I went in and endured the "cut-in". The date: May 15, 1966. The hairpiece is delivered with VERY long hair, so it can be styled for personal preference. The cut-in takes close to an hour, as the barber carefully snips and styles. Finally we got it right and I left the barber shop wearing fake hair on my head! Oh, yes, the barber had wanted to shave my remaining hair under the piece, so the tape and/or glue would hold better. I couldn't bear to let him do that. For the next 2 years or so, I said "ouch" every night as I removed the piece. Gradually, of course, the remaining hair disappared, and with no hair to pull on, there is no hurt.

I felt INCREDIBLY self-conscious leaving the barber shop "under a hairpiece". I was dreading going into work the next day. What would people say? I had one really good buddy at work, the only one I had confided in about my upcoming "new look". I called him and he agreed to meet me in the parking garage and walk in with me for moral support. That morning when I got up and got dressed, and put on my toupee for the first real time, I thought I would not be able to go in, but finally decided I had to go through with it. I was so emotional as I drove towards the office.

to be continued