It cost $20 over the internet, it’s stripey – a bit like my old ginger tom cat, Samson, in fact it even looks a little bit like a little animal curled on his scone – it twinkles in a “I’m made of synthetic materials” way in the sunlight, and apparently it’s a little hot and sweaty, and yet…
And yet, I don’t hate it.
His own mother didn’t recognise him.
I’m long used to the hair deficient nature of my bloke.
His male pattern started when he was around 17 and by the time I met him (aged 25) the writing was on the wall.
I simply don’t care.
In fact, running my hands through a full head of hair these days would feel… a bit wrong.
And the thing I’ve always appreciated about Groover is his acceptance of it.
It’s so attractive in a man, don’t you think? In anyone I guess.
I would much prefer to have a man with no hair, than say a man with lots of hair and a fat beer belly… or a man with hair and no sense of humour.
How dreary would life be?
And frankly I would be continually running out of shampoo and conditioner – as it is, Groover doesn’t use it.
So I was surprised that I didn’t hate the wig as much as I thought I would.
In fact, I forget it’s a wig (I know that sounds unbelievable but it’s true), and just accept it as Groover within minutes of him putting it on.
It’s even confronting when he takes it off for a minute or two.
Not that he wears it often – just to stir his mum really and only within the house.
It makes me wonder what he would look like with a proper wig – one made of real hair, one fitted properly.
The question is – would it turn me off in the bedroom?