Artificial

Wig: an artificial covering of hair for all or most of the head, of either synthetic or natural hair, worn to be stylish or more attractive.




Wigs...

To wear them or not to wear them?

I don't wear them.

Don't get me wrong. I don't knock them. I just choose not to wear them.

I've gone and looked at wigs here and there over the years, but I don't like the way they look on my head. It all looked so artificial.

"You have to go to a good wig shop, and pay good money for one," my sister has said. "You can get it cut in a style, too."

She sometimes wears them. She has one so nice that I thought it was her real hair.

But it just hasn't been that important to me. I am nowhere near being a girly girl.

My regular hair has been, and is, just fine, I suppose.

My Auntie Joyce gave me a wig once. It was a wig cut in a bob style, that she'd bought at one of the local korean stores on her side of town. I remember her running out of the den and into her room, and returning with a wig in a plastic zip bag that could easily double as a little makeup bag.
She removed from the bag and fluffed it out, gave it a good comb through with her big teeth comb. She explained how she'd only paid $5.99 for it. Yes, it was cheap, but it looked nice. It didn't look artificial.

She let me have it. I liked the way it looked on my head. That was odd for me.

But I wouldn't wear it.

Whups, I take that back: I wore it around the house.

I could see the reaction from Oscar-Tyrone. He'd look me in the eyes, then up to the wig on my head, and back to my eyes.

"You like it Oscar?" I'd asked.

Of course he cannot and does not answer. Darn cat turned on his heels and walked the other way.

Cats... indifferent creatures indeed. Never artificial.

My BFF LadyTee had come over one day. We were sitting on the sofa watching television, and I had the wig nearby.

"Oh, look at what Auntie gave me!" I said, holding the wig up and fluffing it. "I kinda like it."

LadyTee was shocked. She jumped from the sofa so fast that I thought something was wrong with her. She ran into the bathroom and found a comb and came back and put it on my head. She commenced to styling. We had fun that afternoon with that wig.

"Go on, girl," she said as we gazed upon ourselves in the bathroom mirror.

I think she enjoyed that time spent together. I did too. It reminded me of a night some 20 years earlier when I'd had a passionate time with a boy and she came to the rescue in a Nursing home parking lot. She applied liquid makeup to the egg sized hickey on neck.

That's my friend. Hickey or wig, she knows how to work it out.

Nevertheless the lesson in styling the wig was something for the day. The wig was uncomfortable, a bit hot on my head. And more comfortable to wear around the house, let alone outside.

Until one day, I noticed a bit of thining at the crown of my head. A little thinning in the back also, where I could see my scalp. This didn't normally bother me, as I was accistomed to it.

But I had a dilemma: I had to go out of town to a friend's housewarming party.

And it was the first time ever that I was ashamed of my hair. Ashamed and scared.

I never know how to deal or what to do when going around new people. When you deal with younger women, who have a tendency to be waaay into themselves, you want to not look out of place, want to not have to deal with insensitivity. I remember trying to make a decision of whether to wear the wig or not.

I wore the wig... and hated it. It was hot on my head. And driving out of town, the air flowing fast through open windows blew it every which way. I remember stopping by a gas station and trying to fix it and it was not working out. So I imagine that I looked half crazy at the party.

More importantly, i felt artificial. I realized it was not me.

I just remember leaving there, sad to go, but happy to leave for the long drive home... and snatching the wig off of my head.

I remember the coolness of the night breeze on my wigless head.

It felt great.

And I promised myself I'd never be embarrased about thinning hair again.

I wore my wig one other time. I wanted to feel, I don't know, pretty I suppose. I was meeting a friend for dinner for the first time. Wanted to look my best.

I retired my wig that night when I arrived home. They just aren't my thing.

It had served me well...

...As well as could be expected.