Thrings

@ ThringsLaw

www . thrings . com

When I was growing up I had a great head of hair . Some might say magnificent . My mum took great pride in my 1970s bowl cut , taking me to Cardiff to have my blonde locks trimmed by professional coiffeurs .

Even more amazing was the fact that before scissors got anywhere near my head , a stranger would take me to a seat , wrap a fluffy towel around my neck , run water and fingers through my barnet , and gently massage my scalp with soapy suds of loveliness .

Come the 1980s I was my own young man . No one knew better than me , and I knew there was nothing finer on the head of a trendy gent than a soft rock mullet . Spikey on top , shaved at the sides and long at the back . What a catch .

Hello 1990s . Hello university . Hello clippers . As a student with no money , the communal clippers became the go-to solution to the hairy problem . Fluffy towels and Radio 2 gave way to the student kitchen and discussions about whether we could sell our clippings to raise beer money . And then the folic world fell off a cliff edge – a definite parting appeared . I got a

job and attempted to grow back my lion-like mane only to discover that my once-thick and lush head bush now resembled the centre court at Wimbledon on finals ’ day . Hair today , gone tomorrow . All those wasted years . No perm , colour and set for me .

The hair was going and I had a choice to make . Should I save it or shave it ? I chose aerodynamics . I chose solar power . I chose to embrace the baldness and stand resplendent in shiny glory . But it could have been so different . I could have clung on to my wisps , encouraged growth above my ears and neck , possibly with a view to creating a little roof à la the Millennium Stadium . If I were more of a sculptor or builder I could have done a Trump .

But I didn ’ t and do you know why ? I like being bald . I like feeling the wind on my skin and seeing my ears unencumbered by the vagaries of a hairdo . I am a shiny happy person .

A word of caution , however . Some of you may have noticed I have a very round head and a very ‘ full ’ face . It ’ s a head like a pale water melon , or a small hot air balloon .

Beware the Bic razor if your head is more of a little honeydew melon or a quail egg – a hat might be best .

But for all you baldies in business I have a message for you . Don ’ t be embarrassed or saddened by your lack of scalp carpet . Don ’ t fear those men with their big hair and their wax products . Stay strong , be proud . If you see a fellow baldie in the street , give him a little nod of approval and let him know he ’ s not alone . And above all , take pride in the fact that you ’ ve not paid £ 25 for a hair cut , that when you go on holiday you only need to pack shower gel , that when it rains you don ’ t care . It ’ s all about the small victories .

Okay , I obviously have some compensatory issues going on , but I ’ ll be tackling beards , moustaches and general facial furniture another time . But for now , and with a nod to one of seminal ’ 80s band The Smiths ’ finest songs , “ Slapheads of the world , unite and take over ."

John Davies e : jdavies @ thrings . com t : 01793 412634