We HATE our ears and hide them with our hair!
NIGELLA LAWSON is as famous for her gorgeous, flickable, shoulder-length brown hair as she is for her cakes.
But, aside from glamour, recent photographs let slip perhaps another reason the TV chef maintains her trademark tumbling waves: for as the wind blew her hair away from her face, it revealed a pair of rather large ears, about which she is said to be sensitive.
While some resort to surgery, many, like Nigella, 57, choose to hide their ears away.
Here, SADIE NICHOLAS speaks to four women who share Nigella’s secret. So, did you guess what they keep hidden under their hair?
I REFUSE TO ANSWER THE DOOR IF MY HAIR’S TIED UP
CLARE CASHION, 40, a civil servant, lives in Worcester with partner Niall, 43, a stay-at-home dad, and their children, Oliver, 13, Libby, 11, and Lochlan, one. GROWING up as one of six children, with three brothers, there was no escaping the daily teasing about my large and distinctive elf-like ears. I inherited them from my maternal granddad — something my mother has often apologised for.
I hid my ears behind long hair — until I went to high school, where I was ordered to tie it back. And so I became ‘Big Ears’.
My right ear has always stuck out more than my left. I’d sit for hours deliberately leaning my hand against it, in the hope it would eventually stay put.
I’ve always worn my thick, wavy hair down to keep them covered. If the wind blows, my instinct is to reach for my hair and smooth it down to hide my ears. I often wear hats for the same reason.
More than anything, I’d hate my ears to poke through my hair, as that’s such a horrible look.
But big ears bring practical issues, too. Hairdressers always manager to scrape mine sharply with their combs and, when I use hair straighteners at home, I end up burning the ‘ pixie points’ because they get in the way.
Thankfully, all my children — the eldest two are from my first marriage — don’t seem to have inherited my ears.
Niall and I have been together for four years. When we started dating, I’d go to great lengths to keep my ears hidden beneath my hair. But once he had seen me, warts and all, he told me I was silly for worrying so much. Still, I wouldn’t dream of leaving the house with my hair tied back.
And if someone knocks on the front door on the rare occasions I do have a ponytail, I scurry away and make Niall answer it.
MY HUSBAND SAYS I RESEMBLE A RAT!
KYLIE McMAHON, 32, is a personal trainer and lives in Kings Langley, Hertfordshire, with her husband Steve, 30, who works in events, and their ten-month old daughter, Ava. ‘RATTY’ was my nickname at school, thanks to my ears, which, though not overly large, stick out. I’ve also been called a meerkat.
When I became pregnant, I hoped my baby would avoid inheriting my husband’s wild hair and my sticky-out ears, but she’s ended up with both. We’ve started calling her ‘Mousey’ — we call her that more than Ava!
I don’t want to set her up for a lifetime of being self-conscious of her ears but, in my experience, a bit of teasing from loved ones helps. At the moment, it’s just a cute pet name.
My ears have been a joke since childhood, when my three brothers and their friends would take the mickey. My mum blames herself for not nipping their teasing in the bud but, in hindsight, I think the jibes were a good thing, because I do have the ability to be jovial and lighthearted about my ears.
My husband and I met when we were serving in the Met Police. I raised the subject of my ears before he could make a wisecrack. I felt I had no choice, as the uniform bowler hat I wore used to sit on top of my ears and make them stick out even more. I looked like a little field mouse.
Steve finds my ears funny — if I get out of the shower with wet hair, he’ll make snuffling noises like a rat!
Now that I’m a personal trainer, I do (reluctantly) loosely tie my hair back, but I still make sure it covers the tops of my ears.
If I could justify having surgery to pin my ears back, I definitely would. But with a new house and a baby, I simply can’t.
THEY CALLED ME THE ‘FA CUP’ AT SCHOOL
CLAIRE NICHOLSON, 53, works for an animal charity and lives in Warwickshire. She is married and has three children, aged 26, 22 and 19. LOOKING back at a school photo of me when I was five, and another from a ballet show at the age of six, my ears — especially my right one — are all I can see.
It didn’t help that my mother used to have my hair cut short, which made my sticky-out ears glaringly obvious.
At secondary school, children called me ‘FA Cup ears’ because they stuck out like the handles on a trophy. At night, I’d stick them down with tape in the hope it would flatten them.
Later, in my 20s, as friends fretted about having big tummies or cellulite, all I could worry about was whether my ears showed through my hair.
Over the past few years, I’ve grown my hair a bit longer and I try to blow-dry as much volume into it as possible so it’s more effective at concealing my ears.
Still, even when my hair is down, I constantly fiddle with it, brushing it down with my hands to make sure my ears aren’t exposed — or, worse, poking through.
Unfortunately, at work, I have to tie up my hair, which makes me feel horribly self-conscious. I always pull tendrils over my ears to at least try to hide them a bit.
Other people always say they don’t notice my ears, but perhaps they’re just being polite.
My husband has spent our 15 years together reassuring me they are only glaringly obvious to me, not anyone else. Recently, I was showing a friend some holiday photos taken last month and was horrified to notice that, in one of them, my right ear is the star of the picture. As I often do, I immediately apologised for it!
Now I’m older, I’m a little more relaxed about my ears. I try to remember that everyone has some physical feature that they don’t like.
I LOOK LIKE DOPEY FROM SNOW WHITE
MY INSECURITIES about my ears sticking out stems from childhood, when my mother saved up for surgery to have my older brother’s ears pinned back — money my father then spent on something else, to her fury.
I reasoned that if she thought my brother’s ears were worthy of the surgeon’s knife, then she must think the same about mine, given that they were identical.
My anxiety grew when I went to ballet classes between the ages of 11 and 14. While the other girls looked graceful with their hair in a bun, I looked like Dopey from Snow White And The Seven Dwarfs.
So, I decided there was only one thing for it: I had to learn how to create beautiful hairstyles that would disguise my ears. I spent hours in my bedroom perfecting different looks, using curlers and voluminous blow-dries. I also became very good at creating pretty plaits and braids.
It did the trick. I don’t recall anyone ever calling me names at school, because I’d got so clever at doing my hair.
Even now, I constantly pore over YouTube tutorials to update my look without ever exposing my ears — in much the same way as I’ve learned to hide my wide hips and bum with skater dresses while eschewing trousers.
My husband insists he can see nothing amiss with my ears. As for my mum, because I cover them up so well she’s long forgotten about them!