Follicular Homicide

Men and hair go together like peanut butter and jelly.  There’s just something about hair that almost defines men and I have to wonder why that is.  I suppose it’s because men just have so much more than women, that it’s a secondary sexual characteristic that makes up a part of what consists of a man.  When you think of men one of the things that probably comes to mind is hairiness.  And it seems like a lot of men take pride in their hair, whether they are lucky enough to have a thick, full head of hair, a wicked awesome beard, or a Tom Selleck approved chest pelt.  And for men, hair seems to be something that goes through great changes every decade or so, not on a monthly basis like most women’s hair.  While women’s hairstyles can change rapidly, it seems as though men are a bit more limited in their choices.  Men usually have two choices, short or medium.  And within that range, there isn’t a lot of freedom to do very much.  Body hair is also something that also seems to come up as either fashion forward or a fashion faux pas.  Every few years it seems to make a comeback.  It’s a sign of masculinity, of virility.  Women find it very sexy.  Then the trend changes and it’s no longer considered sexy and so the youthful look of shaved skin comes in again and men join their wives for a joint waxing session.   

When it comes to the hair on a man’s head, nothing is more envious than a man with a thick, full head of hair.  Oh yes, women just love to run their delicate fingers through those follicles, don’t they!  I remember when I used to have a thick head of hair.  Up until twelfth grade, I wore my hair pretty short and parted on the side, like a proper gentleman.  During the summer before my senior year, I got lazy and didn’t cut my hair for around three to four months and had the shaggy look going on.  Surprisingly, I realized my hair was quite curly.  Yep, I sure didn’t know because the shorter my hair is, the straighter it is.  Plus, I used to blow dry my hair instead of air-drying so when I’d blow dry, I’d comb it into place, which smoothed down the hair shaft.  So, it was weird watching my hair grow and those unknown curls starting to form.  I liked it because I had also lost some weight during the summer so when I went back to school, I looked quite different.  Smaller in the waist and bigger in the hair and I liked it.  Although maintaining my newly curly hair took a bit more time, I really liked it.  I used to enjoy getting out of the shower and letting my hair dry itself and then running my fingers through it.  So smooth and thick.  And then something happened:  college.

Yep, that hair that used to be so thick and luxuriously curly soon became thin and lifeless.  I attribute a lot of that to stress.  I suppose the blame wouldn’t be complete unless I also pointed the finger at family.  Thanks a lot, Mom!  All my family on my mom’s side are either bald or thinning.  My grandmother’s hair is getting very thin and my mom’s brothers are balding.  Even my mom has noticed a thinning in her hair.  My sister has had somewhat thin hair from the start.  And yet, all the family on my dad’s side have thick, black hair.  My grandmother, who is in her late seventies, still has long thick black hair.  Yes, she’s got a lot of silver in her hair but she still has beautiful hair for her age.  Same with my dad.  He is in his late fifties and his hair is still thick and black.  Sure, he has a slight receding hairline and a lot of silver in his hair but I’d venture to say that even twenty somethings would be envious of his hair.  Heck, I am!  I remember cutting off all of my hair a couple of summers ago just to keep cool and when I tried to grow it back out that winter, I realized it wasn’t coming in as thickly as it used to.  The hair just looked a bit thinner and not as lively as it used to be.  And when I grabbed a small mirror and checked the crown of my head with the bathroom mirror, I was horrified.  I saw scalp.  And I’m not just talking about where the hair was parted thanks to my always troublesome cowlick.  There was some definite thinnage going on.  I wanted to throw up.  It seemed for a while the whole stick straight hair look was in and I was always upset that my hair was the complete opposite of what was “the look” of the moment, which once again placed me in the “outsider” category but eventually I came to my senses and realized I didn’t want to be like anyone else.  I liked my curly hair and it seems like the moment I accepted my hair for what it was, it turned on me and the little guys started jumping ship.  I even had a hairstylist say one time while she was cutting my hair, “I’m not going to cut your hair in the front right here because, well, you have a receding hairline so we’ll just leave this hair to cover it up.”  Ouch!  She said it really condescendingly, too.  I mean, I knew I was going bald in the back but now this snotty whore is telling me I’m losing it up front as well?  I had never noticed before but you can bet when I got back to my dorm room, I lifted up my hair and sure enough, I noticed some receding.  My hairline used to go straight across and now it’s starting to go back at the sides.  Fantastic.  It’s just so frustrating because I’ve always had problems with my weight and my skin and I really didn’t need to be worrying about balding at twenty-three!!  Absolutely ridiculous.  So, after I got home from college I switched so sulfate-free shampoos and started taking a biotin supplement, all of which is supposed to help with hair loss.  I even considered Rogaine.  Picture me in Rite-Aid, having a staring contest with a package of the stuff.  I never did purchase any because, frankly, I didn’t want to take that step.  I didn’t want to admit to myself that I was that bad off.  Not yet, anyway.

Back when I was roommates with Keith, a hardcore pogonophile, he frequently brought up the subjects of beards.  When we’d walk to class together, he’d point out the guys who had really cool beards or guys that had “pussy” beards, as he called them, the patchy, barely there beards that look like a thirteen-year-old took a sharpie to his face.  He constantly trimmed his beard to stubble length and then would grow it out again.  Before we left for Christmas vacation, he told me he wasn’t going to trim his already full beard the entire time we were gone.  And when Christmas vacation was over and we moved back into the room, I was met by Grizzly Adams.  He looked even more frightening than usual.  And after several weeks of scaring small children and making me sleep with one eye open, he shaved everything off, leaving just a huge bushy mustache.  He then used my hair wax to fashion himself a nice handlebar mustache, which he thought was really awesome but in reality was just nasty.  One time, he even suggested he and I have a “beard off,” a contest consisting of rules that I’m still unclear of.  I assumed it was to see who could grow a beard the fastest or maybe it was to see whose beard would look the best in a certain amount of time.  I politely declined, not really wanting him to know that I was only capable of a “pussy” beard.  Actually, I wasn’t even sure I was capable of that.  See, ever since I had to start shaving, I just always have.  Up until that point, I had never allowed any facial growth because I didn’t like the rough, stubbly feel of my face if I didn’t shave.  I must admit I was curious to see what I would look like with facial hair.  I think it’s natural for men to want to experiment with that sort of thing.  Girls have the hair on their head to play with and guys have the hair on their face.  But, since I was in school and people had to look at me every day, I didn’t want to take the risk of looking gross.  I looked gross enough as it was and I didn’t want to add a trailer park crustache to my already unsavory appearance.  You know how when you grow your hair out (on your head), you have that awkward transition period where you can’t do anything with it and it just doesn’t look good no matter what?  I was afraid that would happen with my facial hair, even if I did develop a nicely shaped beard in the end.  It was that transition phase I didn’t want to endure.  So, I never tried to grow a beard.  That is, until I graduated.

Since I no longer went to school and had no job, I realized that no one had to see me for a while so I decided to be a hairy hermit and try to facilitate some facial growth.  It didn’t work out so well.  Turns out, the hair on my face comes out pretty sparsely.  I also have absolutely no hair that connects my upper lip hair to my chin hair.  I gave it about a month, I think, of not shaving before I had to just give up and go for the razor.  I was hoping that the longer the hair got, the thicker it would appear and maybe kind of fill out but it never did.  The beard never got full, only long and scraggly.  Plus, I didn’t like the way it felt and I definitely didn’t like it when I’d go to bed.  I sleep on my stomach and so when I would put my face on the pillow, it would hurt ‘cause the hair would be all course and scratchy.  I don’t understand how guys with beards can do it and furthermore, how can women (or men) like it when men have beards?  How can you cuddle with that, kiss that, without getting some kind of rash?  I couldn’t even stand myself.  So, I’m now soft and smooth and I like it better that way.  And actually, I enjoy the process of shaving.  I know a lot of guys hate it but it’s actually relaxing for me and that might sound weird but it just goes back to all the old issues I used to have with my skin.  After my hellacious acne years, I sort of became obsessed with taking care of my skin and I guess when I shave, it just makes me feel like I’m taking care of my skin, getting rid of any unnecessary stuff on my face.  I already have enough stuff going on with my lip piercing and a slight redness from previous acne scars and so I don’t think little black dots of stubble would help the situation.  Plus, I’m lucky in the fact that I don’t even have to shave every day.  I can usually go every other day or maybe even longer without having to shave because of my weak facial hair.  But, who knows, it’s been said that it takes some guys up to their late twenties to develop enough hair to sport a smart beard so maybe I’ll give the whole facial hair a go in another few years.  The sad part is I can’t even grow nice looking stubble, just scraggle.  Perhaps one day.

So, here I am, unable to grow a beard and balding.  I fear by the time I’m thirty, I’ll end up having more hair on my back than my head.  Ah, yes, the back hair dilemma.  Another problem guys go through.  It seems when it comes to body hair, opinion varies except when it comes to that back!  Why is it that people don’t care if hair covers every square inch of a guy except for that one spot?  I don’t know.  Sometimes I wonder why hair is such a big deal in the first place, whether you have a lot or little of it, whether you gain it or lose it and whatever you decide to do with what you’ve got?  I suppose it all just comes down to aesthetics.  And at this day and age, looks-wise, guys are put under just as much pressure to pluck as the ladies.  But, in the end, it’s nature that’s going to decide the state of your hair and you can fight it tooth and nail, or scissors and shavers, but if you’re hairy you’re hairy and if you’re bald your bald.  Sure, you can laser off the hair on your tuckus and have it transplanted onto your head but those procedures are expensive and not practical in most cases.  Like mine, for example.  Sure, if I do end up going bald at thirty, I could take a trip to the Bosley hair restoration place but what if I’m not able to afford it?  Should I start saving up now or just admit defeat to DHT?  

Past:

Present:

Future??

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