Two New Hairstyles (Spoiler: One is a Wig)

The time has come for my hair to go. Well, it started going on its own, or rather from the chemo. It wasn’t noticeable to others, just to me in the shower and on my pillow, and it was actually causing me some anxiety to see it there, not in clumps or anything, but also not a normal amount of everyday hair loss... so I made a last minute appointment at the wig salon.

Wig Salon, you say? Yes. JOI Wig Salon, where you sit in a proper salon chair and various wigs are brought to you based upon your stated preference, plus your skin tone and color, your style, etc. Once you select a wig, they will style it for you, cutting it shorter or however you prefer. They will also shave your head for you, if you would like. I would like, and they did.

Things I learned + highlights from my wig-procuring experience:

• You can get a prescription from your oncologist for a "full cranial prosthesis," aka wig. Some insurances cover costs or partial costs; mine does not.
• They (JOI Wig Salon) do not sell extensions (a young woman with long blond hair stopped in to inquire).
• I found it incredibly touching when another woman, likely in her 50s, came in and shared that her friends at her work at the nearby hospital all chipped in for her wig, and that they had previously done so for two other coworkers.
• Finding “your” wig is apparently similar to buying your wedding dress-- you just “know.” (NB: While I did have a wedding dress, I did not have this moment that is so often portrayed on TV so I’m kind of tongue-in-cheek here-- I have feelings about the wedding dress experience that I am happy to share offline.)  
• You also “know” when you are ready to shave your head. My stylist did not assume that I wanted to, since my pixie cut still looked so good/intact. I asked her about it, and she said, “Oh, you want to shave it now?” She looked at my face and then continued, “You know when you know.” Then she shaved it. And I did not cry, although I did feel a little emotional and it was a distinct possibility at any given time. My stylist helped when she said, “Just think like you are GI Jane."

Here’s a pic from GI Jane. It’s from a website that tells you about her workout, in case you are interested.

• My preference for a blunt-cut bang amused my stylist. “That is how people who don’t know how to cut wig bangs cut it.” LOL (She meant no insult.)
• My stylist told me that I have a very nicely shaped head! She said that she often has to do a lot of styling with the wigs to hide imperfections.
• My entire life (literally since kindergarten), I have been aware that my head is kind of large, or at least larger than others. This idea was often reinforced by J. Crew hat sizing. However, my stylist stated that my head is not large. Hey, she’s the expert! I will take it. (John also disagreed with my self assessment, and thinks that my hair was just super thick and added a lot of extra padding.)
• She also told me that I look like a Bond girl with my chosen wig.
• My chosen wig does look similar to the way I used to wear my hair (particularly after a keratin treatment), although much thinner, although that was not necessarily what I had in mind when I walked in. It turns out I just really like my hair that way (unsurprising, as I have worn it essentially the same way since kindergarten). I did try on several, just to be sure.
• My chosen wig is similar but not exact, and that’s completely okay. It would be absurd to pretend, in my opinion. I have cancer, my hair was coming out because of the chemo, so I got a wig. I am reminded of the scene from Sex and the City where Miranda is shopping for a wedding dress while talking to Carrie on the phone and says, “The jig is up.” I have cancer. The jig is up.
• Synthetic hair wigs (the kind that I got) should not be exposed to heat, and definitely should not be worn while cooking.
• Nice wigs are kind of expensive. They can get up to like $5K, but not at the place I was at (or at least none that she showed me). Still, I spent $400.
• My second new hairstyle, my shaved head, is something I am still getting accustomed to. My feelings go a little round and round over it but always land on, “I refuse to feel ashamed that I have a bald head.” So, you may see me rocking my bald head. However;
• Having a bald head means having a chilly head! So, if I am rocking my bald head, it will likely be under my cashmere beanie. Or not, I don’t know. I am still working my way through all of this, dear reader.
• John says I look like Natalie Portman’s character in “V for Vendetta.” I’ll take it.

This was probably a picture from a premiere for the movie; definitely not *from* the movie. I got it from this website. 

My bald head will be featured at another time, when I am not as exhausted. What? I'm vain. 

And so with newly shorn hair and a Bond girl wig, I begin the next chapter in my cancer adventure.

Selected quote:

“That is how people who don’t know how to cut wig bangs cut it.” -- My wig stylist