Solving men’s hair problems since 1928.

I washed my hair this morning for the first time since the Bad Haircut and it puffed up into the fluffiest bouffant I’ve ever seen. I looked like Liberace. Young readers: this is what Liberace looks like. Used to look like, before he died. Come to think of it, that’s what my hairdresser looks like.


I was so horribly embarrassed throughout the business meeting that I had to attend this morning. I felt like Ronald McDonald. On the way back to my desk I dashed into the nearest chemist and asked for Brylcreem. ‘We’ve got ladies’ hair products here’, said the assistant. ‘That’s great’, I replied, ‘but as you can see I don’t have ladies’ hair’ and grabbed some Brylcreem off the shelf. Then I purchased a comb, asked for a mirror, took a handful of Brylcreem and swept it aggressively through my hair.

Now I look like this, which frankly is not a lot better if you are a girl, but at least now I can pretend it was on purpose. FFS. I will know these drugs are doing something useful when I start to think that my hair is not the fourth worst thing that has ever happened to me.


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