Wigging Out

I know a couple of women who wear wigs not because they’re in the midst of chemotherapy or have alopecia, but because they like to change their look and don’t want to take time for styling. One of them has a variety of beautiful hairpieces from a company named for Sophia Loren and I would never have known her hair wasn’t her own if she hadn’t told me. If you’ve ever had massage therapy, you know the routine.The therapist leaves the room while the client undresses and gets under a sheet, and this woman didn’t want me to be surprised when I returned and discovered she didn’t have the same beautiful hair as when she arrived. At an appointment with a new chiropractor she told me, she didn’t remove her wig or inform him of the situation. He tractioned her neck, and her wig “took off across the room like a flying squirrel”. (Undaunted, he reached up and grabbed it on its way past.) After her session, I left her to get dressed and went to greet the next client, who was sitting in my waiting room. When the first person came out, the woman on the sofa exclaimed excitedly, “Oh, I love your hair!  I would love to have hair like that!” And the other said, “You can! Look!” and whipped the wig right off her head. The look on the waiting woman’s face was, as the commercial says, priceless.