Thursday 14 November 2013

HAIR TODAY GONE TOMORROW & THE BALD TRUTH.

    Yesterday I went to the hairdresser to get my wig cut. Sounds surreal but I kid you not, it's amazing how quickly they grow.
    As I skipped out with my shiny new hair I was reminded of the last time I was there getting my  whole head shaved. Now that's a sentence I never thought I would hear myself say.
     It's amazing how quickly everything has happened, six months ago I had no inkling of things to come - thank God.
    And talking of things happening at speed, when your hair starts to fall, boy does it fall fast. It comes out in handfuls. Sweeping it up is a non stop operation from the moment you are awake.
    They advise you to use a sleeping cap to lessen the distress of seeing it framing the imprint of your head on the pillow in the morning. We live in South West France, it was mid September when all this was happening and it was still bloody hot. I had chosen a white muslin cap thinking it would be cool -  ('cool' as in not hot - not 'cool' as in trendy) it wasn't and as I also looked like a cast member from 'Little House on The Prairie' the cap lasted less than five minutes.
    It is of course not only from your head that your hair disappears, it departs from other areas too. I won't go into too much detail, suffice to say that as well as a sleeping cap the marvellous Macmillan's cancer website ought to consider recommending the use of sleeping knickers too.
    After several days of hair absolutely everywhere except where it should be I was ready to throw in the towel and I headed off to the hair salon to get the whole lot shaved. My normal reliable cliche of a camp hairdresser complete with tiny dog was away, so a trendy young stylist was assigned to me. Ignoring my pleas to use the clippers she attempted to fashion my few remaining clumps and I walked out looking like a cabbage patch doll.
    A few days later, accompanied by a mate for moral support, I marched back to the salon. Wiping tears of laughter from his eyes my hairdresser tried to tell me that the stylist need the practice. That much was obvious, but why? How many baldy chemotherapy clients was she likely to come across during her career? Anyway, finally out came the clippers, that is not a euphemism for anything, and I got the number 1 shave I had requested.
    Back home I went upstairs to the bathroom and l slowly took my headscarf off.  I stared back at an alien and I use that word deliberately. Forcing myself not to cry like a baby just because I looked like one I took a cleansing wipe and removed every trace of makeup and scrubbed my face clean.
    I used a magnifying mirror to examine my head and face in minute detail, manoeuvring it so that I was able to see myself from all angles. After a while I put the mirror down and stood staring at myself for a very long time. I closed my eyes and traced my face and head with my fingers like a blind person learning to recognise someone for the first time and I tried to picture 'me' in my mind's eye.
    And when I finally opened my eyes I cried. I cried like a baby, but they were tears of relief because I had done the thing I was dreading the most and it was OK. The woman staring back at me was still me, a strange me, a very different me, but definitely still me.
    I wouldn't go so far as to say it was like baring your soul but it comes a close second. Standing there without any artifice, without any adornment, no stray curl or sexy strand to soften or hide your features is actually quite liberating. The layers had been peeled away and I felt raw and vulnerable but also strangely powerful.
    And I realised another thing, I realised that I had quite a good shaped head, no lumps or bumps but smooth and nicely rounded..... like Sinead O'Connor but sadly without her voice, or indeed her amazing bone structure or her eyes, so OK not really like her at all, I'll shut up.
    Having said all that I still don't feel brave enough to face my public without any headgear and frankly I'm not sure they'd want that either.
    Now this is going to sound bizarre but to be honest I would rather wear a wig and be naked from the neck down than the other way around. Strange but true.
    I'm not sure why but the idea of stripping has always held an odd attraction for me. It doesn't run in the family, or not that I'm aware of, and it was certainly never mentioned during any careers advice at the all girls High School I attended but maybe I should have followed my instinct. I would have undoubtedly earned more money than during my acting career -  or indeed any career to date.
    I wonder if it's too late?
    I'm no 'poulet de printemps' but maybe there's a market for the more mature bald striptease act.
    I bet there is, there's a market for everything these days!

Coming soon to a town near you.... Janie Millman performing 'The Bald Truth.'

16 comments:

  1. Oh bun... Nearly cried myself reading that. Seriously though, you ought to think pink when it grows back. It really suits you.

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    1. hoping that if I wear the wig enough it may grow back pink? Miss youXX

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  2. Janie you will always be lovely you.....and we love you as much as ever; probably more! xxxxxx

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    1. thank you - but your name did not come up so I need you to reveal yourself!

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  3. An absolutely lovely piece of writing, Janie. Thanks for, sharing so beautifully, what's clearly so raw for you.
    David xxxx

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    1. Thanks - will let you know if my tour comes near you!!!

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  4. wonderfully written, thank you so much for sharing something so personal, you lovely, fabulous lady Caro xxx

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    1. Cheers darling - can't wait to do that properly with you!

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  5. Still making me laugh, (though you never made me cry until I read this) after all these years Janie. You are such a courageous sassy lady, we are all privileged to know you darling. Keep it up, it's the only way to go! Love as ever. Vonny

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    1. it was suppose to make you laugh - sorry you cried too - was it the thought of the striptease act? Maybe the Daisy Chain should make a come back?

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    2. I have to admit Jane, I did laugh at the striptease bit - just because I could remember it ;) (I have the photos!!) You know I still have all the Daisy Chain photos too! One in a frame, so I see you and Suzanne every day :)

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  6. Hilarious. You have a true knack for communicating with humour and aplomb.

    Big hugs to you, honey xxxx

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  7. You've got a lotta guts. And you look stunning. Stay good.
    Ann & Adrian xxxx (and for Himself)

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    1. thank you so much XXX good to see you t'other night

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  8. Dear Janie, I love the new look and the blog... and that, in true Janie style, you're having fun with this too. Love to you S, P, A & J xxxx

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