This is a story as told to me by a friend.
I’ve can’t believe I made it through two days of work without crawling under my desk or throwing my wig across the room and into the trash. Although, I did need a three hour nap when I got home. Work four hours, sleep three, that’s my plan.
Worst part of my day was how badly my head itched the entire time I was there, all from wearing a wig. I’m used to spending my down time bald inside my house and wearing scarves out in public. But, for work, I actually dress up, do my makeup and put on hair.
I so wanted to be a wig queen in my younger days. I’d wanted to have a variety of wigs to go with different outfits. And it would give me the opportunity to be different people. This was my plan long before breast cancer and chemo making my hair fall out.
Then cancer happened and if I was going to loose my hair, I might as well have fun with it. So, right before chemo, I went a little crazy, spent too much money and bought 7, no 8 hairpieces, foolishly purchased without the understanding that underneath the perfect styles and shiny colors, they are instruments of torture.
They don’t tell you that ahead of time. A typical description will say that their wig has a “woven weft construction that combines airy ventilation and a feeling of lightness, while giving you the confidence of having full coverage and a secure fit.”
Wow, that sounds too good to be true.
Hey…Wait…What is a “woven weft construction?”
Do you recall those 1960s lawn chairs? They were made out of lightweight aluminum with a pastel-colored, two toned, three inch, plastic-based webbing structure across the back and bottom? They, too, provided “airy ventilation.” You’d relax by the pool in one of those chairs, wearing your darling little bikini, and by the time you finished your soda, you had deeply quilted, raised patterns in your skin that would sting and itch for hours.
Well, the manufacturers of those chairs haven’t gone out of business – they now make wigs.
Like those lawn chairs, the inside of the wig consists of a scar-inducing series of straps that go across the top of your head, with a cap in the center that the hair is sewn into. At the base of your skull there is either velcro or hook and eye area so the wig cap can “give you the confidence of a secure fit.”
To keep up with the summer theme, you get the same confidence of a secure fit with wigs as you do with that great little bikini you wore when you sat on those fabulous lawn chairs. You know, the kind that were crocheted and the bikini bottom actually tied on each side? You had to get it perfect which took a lot of juggling in front of the mirror. You tied it loose on each side, and then tighter on the other – back and forth until it would stay on. If you got one side tighter than the other, you ended up walking funny. Tie it too loose and well, you could only be confident of a attracting new boyfriend. Unfortunately, with no guarantee that he’d be a secure fit.
Wigs are the same – tighten it so it won’t go awry if you need to scratch your forehead and you are guaranteeing yourself a migraine. But, leave it comfortably loose, and with one sneeze it’s on your lap.
Unfortunately, unlike the bikini example, any wig mishaps aren’t going get you a new boyfriend. Nothing says “I’m not hot” like a lap full of woven weft constructed hair.
I have wigs that range in price from $5.00 to $150.00. Expensive or cheap, they are all hot, scratchy and uncomfortable – they feel like they are made out of industrial strength burlap.
Now, maybe on Project Runway they can make something floaty and comfortable out of burlap, but Rene of Paris hasn’t quite mastered that skill.
So, that’s me, headed back to work. Exhausted and miserable, with a lawn chair strapped on my head.