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Those men who are 50 years old and over and still have their hair raise their hands! And for others who have lost it, like me, to drown our sorrow, let’s raise our elbows!
You’ll understand, I don’t have much hair on my head. But it’s not my choice! It’s my age that decided this. As I write this post, I am “balding”, as polite people who don’t want to annoy me say. But very soon, I’ll be like Yul Brynner! If you’re 50 or older, you must remember him!
So at 50, I’m almost bald. I don’t know if it’s hereditary or not, as some experts suppose, but my father wasn’t very hairy either. And there are a multitude of other reasons that cause this phenomenon, such as stress, lack of iron, male hormones (I don’t understand why), testosterone and even fatigue!
But to alleviate the effect of baldness, I shave my skull every week. Because although I accept this fatality, I can’t stand to see the bald spot on the top of my head! I find it horrible, this hole in the hair at the top of my head!
On the other hand, does it really affect me? Not really! Yet, when I was younger, my hair was definitely the part of my body that I paid the most attention to! I spent hours in front of mirrors combing my hair and monopolizing bathrooms. Trying to make sure that my hair withstood all the situations that my way of life inflicted upon it. Being careful not to ruin it with a clumsy gesture! Or, when that happened, I immediately plunged my hands into this sticky mess and reformed my best wedge. (Somebody please tell me if this is the right word for Olivier’s hair style, I have no idea what it is in English! – Cheryl)
That said, I wasn’t the most fanatical about my hair amongst my friends. Laurent, my roommate at the time, squatted alone the bathroom longer than me and our two friends! And only for hair styling! And how many times did we tell him, just to piss him off, when he finally reappeared, satisfied with his haircut, “Shit, Laurent, your hair’s a mess!” Certainly, after hearing that, he’d go back to where he came from, and spend another 20 minutes shaping his banana!
In addition to the time spent combing my hair, I’ve also spent a fortune in gels and styling spray. Maybe it’s because of all these chemicals that I used on my hair that I’m almost bald? I’ll never know!
It’s true that when I was younger, when I was a punk, I saw myself growing old with this haircut. I imagined that when I was 50, I’d still be like this photo.
Once a punk, always a punk! as the saying goes.
And yes, at my age, I’m still a punk! But as far as my hair’s concerned, fate has decided otherwise.
And did I imagine that today, at 50, I’d be living in Moscow and teaching French to Russian men and women with that haircut? I’ll tell you the truth – no! I couldn’t see myself going to school with a wedge on my head. Especially since I already have a lot of tattoos and piercings visible!
However, although I live this situation rather well and I’m not jealous, I’m always a little appreciative and happy to see punks or rockers with beautiful haircuts.
And among these people are friends of mine who have had more or less the same rhythm and the same way of life as me. And who treated their hair with as much bad care as me! Sometimes even worse! And yet, some of them still have all their hair! Life is unfair!
So, yes, I have to tell you something. I’d prefer to have a little more hair than this:
What could I have done differently?
Maybe I could have, or should have, applied magic lotions like Petrole Hahn (this is an oil which you rub into your scalp to make your hair grow – very popular in France) before it got too late. Yes, why not? But is it really effective? And then, these things aren’t cheap! Yes, I looked at the prices once!
I could have implants. What next?! Why not a wig while we are here! Like the singer of the band whose name I will not mention out of respect.
There’s also the comb-over. Young readers may not understand what I’m talking about, but we, the elders, understand each other, don’t we? And frankly, can you imagine me with hair that goes from one side of my skull, then spreads on the top of it to cover the bald spot, and then comes down on the opposite side?! The same hair that, at the slightest gust of wind, rises to float in the air, and gives the impression of an idiot. Yes, there’s no other word, to whom it happens! I therefore leave this clumsy camouflage solution to others.
So what next?
So, I’m doomed to watch my skull become more and more shiny (yes, a skull without hair shines!) nostalgically thinking back to the hair of my youth, without ever knowing why this quirk has attacked me!
But to finish I’ll just say that it’s better to be bald than to have bad hair!
And you, gentlemen, how is your hair? Send us photos of you, with or without it!
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