wigging out

There are all sorts of things you have to remember when you have no hair. Remembering to put it back on when you go out is hard enough. You get used to wandering around the house in all your bald-headed glory. But even once the wig is properly in place there are all sorts of potential wig-wearing traumas you have to remember are out there, so that you can avoid the sure humiliation that would follow were you to forget and screw up.

Since there are, as far as I know, no standard protocols of behavior regarding wigs, I have to realize what's appropriate and what's probably not all on my own. And I have to be in a situation where I'm doing something that's probably pretty shocking before it occurs to me not to do it. Like reaching underneath my wig to scratch my scalp when it gets itchy. It occurs to me that that kind of gesture, which--trust me on this--is just something you find yourself unconsciously wanting to do when you're wearing a wig (and which of course is entirely acceptable if you're wearing some other head-garment, such as a hat), would probably be icky to other people if done in public. I imagine it would be rather like reaching down your pants to scratch your nethers. Or taking off your shoes to pick a toenail. You just don't do these things--everyone knows that. But is it written up in Emily Post? Of course not. These are things we pick up on our own, but only after a long and hard conditioning period as awkward and frequently humiliated children.

And so it is with a wig. You have to figure it out yourself, only now you're an adult with solidly ingrained habits, and you don't have that "But I'm just a kid!" excuse to fall back on. You simply have to be out there in public, getting set to reach up under your wig to scratch, when suddenly it (hopefully) occurs to you that someone is watching and that the spectacle you are making of yourself is not remotely dignified.

Scratching, though, is probably the least of it when it comes to the outrageous wig faux pas of which I am capable. When a bewigged person is pulling a sweater off, I've come to realize the hard way, there is an extremely good chance her hair is going to come off with it. Especially when, in addition to baldness and the awkwardness of wigs, she is also dealing with a right side of the body that can't feel much of anything. All it takes is a few out-of-place strands when you're tugging at your sleeves and you whip that puppy right off your head.

Doh! I'm sure these are issues that other hairless women don't have to deal with. They can probably feel their hair pieces, just as they can probably feel anything that's catching on them and in danger or pulling them right off in front of everyone.

Not me. I can't feel a thing.

The imponderable, though, is why, without any shred of self-contradiction, I can see my wig at one and the same time as an effective weapon against rude people and yet a horrifying potential for personal humiliation on the other. How can you be humiliated and empowered by the same thing?

I guess it's all a matter of context and control. As I've mentioned before, I get a kick out of whipping my wig off when I get especially steamed at people. Did it just the other day, in fact, when a rude driver honked because she wanted to edge past us as a red light. I whipped that sucker of a wig right off, stuck my head out the window, and yelled "What?!!" at her.

She smiled timidly and waved her fingertips at me.

Score one for the baldies.

Losing one's wig accidentally, however, is another thing altogether, and to my mind can't be matched for the humiliation it would cause. Go figure?