HAIR TODAY By Mel Byron
Trainer, Comedian and Writer
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s I write this, the sun is shining and spring has definitely sprung. Short sleeves are being worn, perhaps ill-advisedly, and two important things now rise to the top of the to-do list. It’s time to both swap over the car’s winter tyres and remove the winter fluff from my legs. The whole leg, mind you, all the way down to, and including, the toes. One of those involves qualified professionals, muscular young men in overalls wielding hydraulic power tools. The tyres I can change myself. That’s a sample of the kind of top-class joke smithery that has put me at the forefront of menopausal comedy. But no punchline I could scribble on the back of a box of Veet can compare with the hair distribution prank played daily upon you, me, and our entire tribe. Suddenly, our legs qualify us for Crufts. Yet morning grooming ends with
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MENOPAUSE LIFE SUMMER 2022
a hairbrush thick with the remnants of those highlights that cost more than a small house. Is there any point in spending money on a new ‘do’ with hair that’s as transparent as your granny’s lace curtains? If Tesco sold Value-branded hair, that’s what would be under my hat right now. Why, oh, why, can’t it be the other way round, with gauzelike strands on the thighs, and a mane that wouldn’t look out of place in a Lloyds Bank advert. More importantly, why the heck does it matter so much? I mean, it’s only hair, and what’s that? Science tells us that it’s protein filaments that grow out of follicles in the dermis. No, me neither. But, by heck, those wee filaments and their related bits and pieces can’t half make or break the day. Like me, you probably fret about your medulla, cortex and cuticle more than is healthy. Perhaps it’s because your alpha-keratin is prematurely turning grey?
Granular stratum a cause for concern? Stop your whining and get yourself down to Boots to buy … well, what? Look at those shelves! There are millions of products on the market, and some are even aimed at ‘mature hair’. Presumably, that means hair that’s moved out of its parents’ house and got itself a job. Some products have caffeine in them, which apparently thickens the tonsure. I tried a homemade version, basically, a cup of Gold Blend rubbed through to the split ends. It did nothing except make me smell like the bin around the back of Starbucks. If you’re looking for a solution to the hair problem, I’m sorry, I don’t have one. I do comedy, which makes me a professional moaner. ‘What is it, with hair, eh?’, followed by a bit of swearing. That sort of thing. All my science I get from Twitter, which, as you know, is awash with highly qualified commentators on matters biological.
