The bald truth

It's been quite funny to see the reactions of people to my recent pledge to do the World's Greatest Shave.

It's ranged from people offering to donate money for me not to do it, right up to someone who thought it was so funny they'd happily shell out the lot just to make sure I am bound to go through with it!

It's a funny thing, hair. Quite a lot of how you look and how you feel really depends on it. There's a huge industry built around colouring it, cutting it, shampoo, conditioner, hair masks, treatments, hairbrushes, combs, blow-dryers, hair straighteners, elastics, hair clips, scrunchies, hairbands, gels, mousses, waxes, hairsprays and styling products. God knows, I have a bathroom full of this stuff.

I've always been a bit proud of my hair. It's naturally (yes, really) blonde and straight and usually quite shiny and bouncy.

So from one perspective, I guess that's what makes it such a scary thing to contemplate. Who will I be without my hair? What will I do with no hair on special dress-up occasions? What if I look like an alien?

But then I kind of think about the other hand as well. Maybe it will be liberating. I won't have to brush my hair in the morning and try to untangle the birds nest. I won't wake up with hair in my face and mouth. I won't have to find novel ways of keeping it out of my way while I'm working, cleaning, walking, breathing....

Most likely it'll be a bit of both. Either way, it's still enough to give me butterflies whenever I think about it. Wish me luck.