Makeover

A dozen years ago, when I was living in Toronto, I got fed up of having hair. Or perhaps I was just growing fearful about the fact that I was starting to lose my hair. Or perhaps it was just an early mid-life crisis, and I was desperate to effect some sort of change in my life. I can't quite remember now. I just know that I abruptly decided to shave my head, for the first time in my life.

And I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised by the result. I'd suffered considerable trepidation beforehand: it might look absolutely terrible, but I'd have to wait months to recover 'normality'. Luckily, I discovered that I have quite a nice-shaped head; at least, with no conspicuous lumps or disconcerting assymmetries. And the thinning patch on the crown is much less conspicuous when my hair is close-cropped all over (rather than more so, as seems to happen with many people).

I also found it quite liberating to have transformed my 'image' so completely. One's hair - and hairstyle - are such strongly defining components of one's appearance that such a radical change as this renders one virtually unrecognisable (at least, at first glance). The security guard on the door at my apartment building, and even some colleagues at the law firm where I'd been working, when I went back there one last time to empty my desk, challenged me as a possible intruder - unknown and undesirable.

And yes, there is a certain sinister, threatening mystique about this look - the associations with the skinhead movement, and with enforced 'uniform haircuts' in the armed forces or institutions of correction.

I'd been very wary of adopting such a potentially stigmatised badge of identity before I took the plunge, but I soon began to revel in it. People just don't give you any hassle if you've got a shaved head. Or, if they look like they might be thinking about it, it's much easier to fake a 'psycho stare' to dissuade them. I spent much of that summer touring around North America on the Greyhound buses, and I was almost always able to get a double-seat to myself. Luxury! I'd rarely enjoyed such good fortune in previous years when I'd ridden the buses around the country with hair.

Also, I discovered that you can effectively 'wash' your hair when it is this short by simply throwing a few handfuls of water over it in a bus station washroom. You don't even have to towel down afterwards: a quick rub of the head with the bare hand makes most of the surplus water spray off the bristles, and the rest evaporates in no time. It may perhaps have been this issue of practicality that was foremost in my mind when I took the momentous decision.

In the first few days after the cut, there's also an exquisite hypersensitivity of the newly-exposed scalp: it's as though you can feel every little movement of each individual follicle. Even the slightest breeze riffling through those tiny hairs is like a wonderfully sensual massage. You find yourself stroking your own head constantly, becoming addicted to that stimulating prickling of the scalp - and delightedly, fascinatedly gauging how the texture of the hair changes day by day as it slowly grows longer and softer again. You even encourage friends - and perhaps some strangers too - to pat or stroke your head. You suddenly understand why dogs are such suckers for this: it feels that good.

Perhaps it's a first-time only phenomenon, though. This thrilling novelty of sensation wears off after a week or two; and I think I felt it much less strongly - barely at all? - on the couple of subsequent occasions I've tried cutting off all my hair.

However, it's been.... 4 or 5 years now since the last time I did it. And after such a long lapse, I am once again enjoying something of the exhilaration that I did on first experiencing bristle-hair back in '98.

[I have long been tempted to adopt this as my regular 'hairstyle' - partly because my hairloss has accelerated conspicuously in the last few years, and partly because it's often such a hassle trying to get a decent haircut in China. However, my decision at the start of this week to shave my head once again - and this time, for the first time, I did it myself.... so, it's a bit untidy - was prompted by the exceptionally hot and humid weather we've been suffering here. Even with my hair cut fairly short and neat, I'd still been suffering this unpleasant sensation that it was constantly matted with sweat. I'm feeling much cooler and more comfortable now. Of course, if it hasn't grown out again by the time the autumn gets here, I may need to get myself a woolly cap!]