Rebirth of the Rug (The Naked City)

Wigs or periwigs, to give them their full name, have been with us for eons. As the definitive pictorial volume, Viz’s ‘Wigwatching’, notes: “ever since the first Neanderthal killed a ginger mammoth and put a roughly sheared lump of its pelt on top of his head” we have been fighting back against male pattern baldness. Hair loss aside, men’s rugs have also been a display of affectation and showbiz swagger.

The ancient Egyptians, both male and female, often sported wigs to shield their shaven or close cropped heads against the searing sun. In the 17th century shoulder length wigs were a common sight amongst the male nobility who shaved their heads to accommodate their luxurious locks. The denuding of the scalp also served a dual purpose at a time when typhus spreading head lice were endemic at all levels of society. The 18th century saw a less ostentatious approach with the popularity of the smaller powdered wig, a tradition which has extended right through to current times with some members of the British judiciary still opting to don the rug, for example.

But let’s not dwell upon those fools of the past as it’s the modern day wig wearer that really captures out attention. We are all familiar with women’s wigs  and drag queens adorned in over the top ‘hair to the heavens’ creations. Yet it’s the male wig wearer who generates a whole range of reactions – from sniggering and contempt to “gee whiz, is that really a wig he’s wearing!”.

In the TV and broader entertainment industry, hairpieces or toupees have often been a subject of unwarranted speculation and at times ridicule. Many actors and celebrities have chosen to wear them without any admission, the subject being somewhat taboo. Sinatra wore a hair piece but it would have been a brave journalist who asked him “Frank, are you sporting a rug?”  It was our own Bert Newton who cast aside any stigma by openly admitting to what was a fairly obvious hair piece anyway. At Don Lane’s funeral he doffed his wig in a hair raising tribute and often joked that one of his rugs was christened Eddie, after TV compatriot Eddie McGuire.

Sydney band the Psychotic Turnbuckles, currently celebrating forty years of international gigging, have embraced the cheap and nasty two dollar shop party wig with great affection and it’s become their trademark. They formed in 1984 but the wigs have disguised any sign of male pattern baldness and kept them eternally youthful.

Twenty years earlier in 1964 when The Beatles toured Australia, fans showed their appreciation by donning plastic Beatle wigs, a modern day version you can still buy today. Michael Jackson fans once opted for similar merchandising with wigs of his once lengthy locks a popular item. The irony being that following burns from the ill fated Pepsi commercial he opted for a series of hair pieces that eventually became a full on, but less than convincing rug – said to have partly rotted at the time of his death.

These days the old school toupee of the 60s and 70s is long gone, replaced by a sophisticated and often undetectable non surgical solution for male pattern baldness. It doesn’t come cheap and the process will often cost two to three thousand dollars plus ongoing maintenance. A mesh is glued to the scalp to help it breathe and a rug of often real human hair attached to be fashioned in anyway that the recipient should chose.

The catch is the cost of ongoing maintenance which demands regular replacement of the mesh and restyling of the mop. It should be pointed out that the treatment is not always a case of personal vanity and is often provided for example to cancer patients who have lost their hair through chemotherapy.

Without a doubt the most notorious wig wearer of the past few decades was American record producer and murderer Phil Spector. It took two trials and almost seven years of prosecution before he was convicted of the murder of Lana Clarkson. During his endless court appearances he chose to sport a bizarre collection of wigs. Whether this was intended as a diversion for the jury, a mockery of the legal process or simply a disguise for his baldness, it’s anybody’s guess.

If there is any moral to this hair raising tale it’s that wigs can be all things good as well as all things bad – on the one hand fun or therapeutic, on the other a camouflage for an evil that lurks within. There’s certainly no shame in going bald and the well lubricated shiny scalp is now a fashion statement in its own right.