I think everyone would agree that hair loss may be an ultimately small price to pay for your life, yet I am equally sure that there are few women who wouldn't sympathize with this very natural and instinctive response. Science explains hair loss due to chemotherapy as the drug attacking ALL rapidly growing cells- that includes cancer cells and... those in your hair roots. So now you know. But a woman's relationship with her wig is a far less simple thing to rationalize.

A woman's relationship with her hair is a deep and complex one. Who among us can't identify with the agony of a bad hair day? That one day when it doesn't matter one iota that your shoes and bag perfectly complement your outfit, or that said outfit includes the jeans you haven't been able to fit into since you were 18, or that (miracle of miracles) you are spot free on the very day you happen to run into your ex-boyfriend, because- and I pause to let the full weight of this injustice sink in- you are having a bad hair day.

I have smart, practical friends who keep hats and scarves in their closets for just such an event. I also have friends who will go into hiding, cancelling business appointments and dates, and taking refuge under their duvets until the ordeal has passed. Mystifying and incomprehensible as it may be to men, the fact is that our hair is part of who we are. We use it to frame our features- highlighting or hiding where necessary. We use it to express our personalities and to project the image of ourselves that we wish the rest of the word to see. Erroneous and unreliable as this may be, we are all hard-wired to presume something of someone's character from their hair- you only have to consider a few of the persistent stereotypes associated with blondes, brunettes and redheads.

Having long hair in particular is still viewed as a specifically feminine trait in many cultures. Just think of Lady Godiva, Rapunzel, or Botticelli's 'Venus'. On the other hand, short human hair wig is perceived as 'boyish' or 'manly', making it understandable for many female chemo patients to feel as if they have lost some part of their womanhood. This is something that I can relate to. On an impulsive teenage whim I asked the hairdresser to recreate my beautiful cousin's delicate and elfin pixie cut. I got something resembling an afro. Also, some African American wigs are also good choices.

Except only to the sides. In short, I looked like Hey Arnold. The mental and emotional scars accumulated over the formative two-year period in which it took me to re-grow it remain with me to this day. I can't parade through airport security without having flashbacks to family holidays in Asia and being asked "Sir, please queue for the men's metal detector over there..." And, once on the plane, being given the Beano rather than the Barbie comic. Well, actually, that's where I scored. But I think you see what I mean. Not once in that time did I ever feel pretty- two years of being mistaken for a boy does some serious damage to a girl's self-esteem.