I’m not even sure I’m losing my hair.
I started my anti balding treatment when I was 19 at the urging of my stylist. Almost every man in my family has lost his mop, so I thought it better to be safe than sorry. It’s preventative really. I shampoo and condition everyday with a steady regimen of vitamins and scalp stimulators. I also make it a point to avoid red meat and have lots of raw almonds on hand. The problem, however, is that I can’t tell if it’s working or I’m actually just not balding, but I’m too afraid to stop. The hardest part is waiting for it to fall out. At what point do I stop evasive measures and begin with aggressive maneuvers? I’ve found myself sizing up other guys’ scalps. Every morning, I mentally note the tresses left on my pillow. Each one is a reminder that sooner or later I’m going to have to deal with it. Luckily, I have a three-phase plan: In phase one, if I begin to bald around the crown area, I will wear progressively larger yarmulkes to cover the spot. I’ve seen this method work with varying levels of success. Should the peninsula of a hairline on my ever enlarging forehead recede all the way back, I will begin phase two. I call this the ‘hat phase’ or the ‘Ron Howard phase,’ for those of you who are familiar. This involves growing out what remains of my locks so as to give the appearance of a thick mane when a hat is carefully positioned. Headware will be rotated on a regular basis and according to the social situation. Given my artist lifestyle, no one will think twice of my eclectic wardrobe. And if they do, I will initiate the third and final phase— shaving it all off. Before I do, I will have to double up on cardio and free weights, tan religiously, grow a small ‘soul patch’, buy some snazzy new vests, work spicy foods into my diet and develop a slight unplaced accent. The goal of this is, of course, to make myself ambiguously foreign. That way, buzzing it will seem more like a style choice than a product of male pattern baldness. It worked for Howie Mandel and it can work for me too.
You call it paranoid. I call it prepared.