Hair. Either you’ve got it or you haven’t. Or rather, either you’ve got good hair or you haven’t.
I haven’t got good hair. Never have done. My school photos are like chapters in a book called What Not to Hair, and things went steadily downhill as I got older.
My double crown doesn’t help. It meant that I couldn’t have my favoured centre parting in the 1990s, although I tried my best with the help of extra-strong styling gel. There wasn’t much styling going on.
Then there’s the ‘Miracle-Go’ nature of my double crown. Within minutes of stepping out of a salon, the north-east and north-west sections of my head are starting to resemble a pair of cossack hats.
This wouldn’t be a problem if the rest of my hair grew at the same rate, but it doesn’t. Indeed, some parts of my hair have stopped growing, with my body deciding to concentrate on sprouting nasal and ear hair at a rate of knots. ‘Knot’, being the operative word.
Brush Before Flossing
Seriously, this is one of things you’re not warned about as a child. One day, your nostrils and ears will transform your hair follicles into breeding grounds for Japanese knotweed. The one advantage is that you’ll save money on flossing – just use your extra-strong and extra-long nasal hair
There was a day, around the turn of the millennium, when I was genuinely happy with my hair. It was a fleeting moment in time. When the northern outposts of my head weren’t resembling a pair of hairy Danish pastries. When the side parting was just-so and I looked in the mirror without recoiling.
The next day, the moment had passed. Back to imagining what it would be like to have hair like George Clooney or David Beckham.
Today, my hair is at peak awfulness. Things are not helped by the fact that I haven’t been to a barber shop since February. It looks like I’ve paid a visit to ‘Hair by Moses’. Thinning in the middle, but with a pair of Princess Leia buns on the outside.
Why can’t it grow or stop growing at the same rate? Instead, I have to put up with a Steve McLaren hair island until I pluck up the courage to go full Bruce Willis or Vin Diesel.
Until then, I’ll continue to hide my rubbish hair behind cycle helmets, caps and my old wax drifter. Which brings me on to the subject of the next I Have a Problem With blog post: hats.