As we headed back to Indiana on Friday I spent a good deal of time researching hair replacement options. Chris seems to think that it is unnecessary, but I want to have at least one option on hand when I need it. Obviously I am quite shallow, as I feel like the threat to my hair is the most upsetting part of this whole ordeal.
After checking out my options, I made an appointment at a place on the north side of Indy with a lady who specializes in fitting and cutting wigs, or, as she called them, cranial prosthesis. Somehow buying a cranial prosthesis sounds less threatening, particularly because many devices by that name are covered by health insurance.
Saturday afternoon, Chris, Kai, and I arrived in a suburban Indianapolis neighborhood and let ourselves into the wig salon. There were tens of wigged heads staring at us from shelves on the wall, we were surrounded on every side. It was beyond weird, I considered bailing immediately upon arrival. The only thing that stopped me was that I know that I will have to put myself in that situation at some point if I want to maintain the appearance of having hair, or even just the option to have hair sometimes. Geez, talk about high pressure.
So, there we sat, in the middle of the room, all eyes on us, discussing the finer points of cranial prostheses. We decided that I would want something hand knotted, all lace, synthetic, blonde, and a bit below my shoulders. [As an aside, can you imagine hand knotting a wig? Talk about a tedious job!] She had just one option available that met my requirements and it only came with a right part. I part my hair on the left. It looked strange, in large part because it was the mirror image of my hair.
We decided not to buy anything. It was such an odd experience and I think Chris and I were both too uncomfortable with the situation. As we drove away, I began to research options in New York. The wig lady had mentioned that she had the best selection in Indiana, she thought the only way to get a better wig was to go to Los Angeles and have a custom wig made. I don’t think a trip to LA is in the cards in the next few weeks, but I was correct in guessing that New York had plenty of custom wig makers. Hopefully I can visit one this week when we go back there. In the meantime I will deny away the likely fate of my hair.
*For my family: Please don’t discuss my hair situation with me. I’m comfortable discussing it on my blog, but I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it yet. I still want to pretend that it won’t be a problem.