By Sheri Radel Rosenberg
Heavens to mergatroid. My hair sucks. The cut and color are good, but the texture is not.
Is it the GLP-1? Or menopause? Whatever the cause, I am inching ever closer to the sprayed helmet I swore I’d never have.
I used to look at older women with that very particular kind of hair — short, set, slightly immovable — and wonder how and when they settled on that look. Not in a judgmental way. I was actually curious.
I always assumed I wouldn’t.
I thought I’d always have my hair. My hair was what I called strurly — not straight, not curly, sort of wavy, always undone; an absolute mop. It was thick and full and kept its shape. Frizz was absolutely an issue, but nothing a few keratin treatments in the spring and summer couldn’t solve. But times, and my hair, have changed.
Now it’s flat in the morning. Not flat, limp. My ponytail is noticeably thinner, and when I wear one I can see more scalp than I want to. I am shedding more. Not in clumps, just in a constant low-level hair on everything situation. I find them on the bathroom counter, my pillow, and the back of every black sweater I own. This hair will not hold a curl, though to be fair, I have never been particularly good at doing my hair, and I would like that on the record. I am, as I once put it, a tool fool. My texture, once coarse and full, is fine and a little wispy. And even if no one else can notice, I can tell.
Age-related hair thinning or loss, called androgenetic alopecia, is often genetic – though it can also be caused by rapid weight loss, stress, thyroid issues, or nutrient deficiencies. Individual hair follicles become smaller, meaning that the hair that grows from them is thinner, a process known as follicular miniaturization. No one prepared me for this. People talk about skin issues and hormonal fluctuations, the way your weight shifts. I knew aging would affect my body, but for some reason I never thought it’d affect my hair.
I am figuring out what works. I bought a Vayose brush, which I love, but also hurts because the bristles are extremely sharp, and using it feels less like brushing and more like a scalp punishment. I have decided to call this a head massage and move on. I went a little darker, more brunette than red, because it gives the illusion of more hair. I have been coloring my hair for years, so this was a relatively easy lever to pull. I started using MDhair serum and shampoo, and they have actually helped, which I say with the cautious optimism of a woman who has tried many things.
My longtime hairdresser Siobhan, who has been cutting my hair for what feels like a thousand years, suggested I try a volumizing spray, which is how the Christophe Robin happened. She is too kind to say my hair is changing and just quietly slips me products. I like the Christophe Robin, partly because it works and partly because it smells like roses and makes me feel briefly French.
I’m adjusting to my new reality. I’m not ready for the helmet. I still want movement and to feel like myself when I catch my reflection. And as far as going gray, not for me. Yet.
But I get it. Far from being defeated, those women I saw were simply farther along in life. They accepted what their hair was capable of and met it where it was. Apparently, I’m catching up.