Hairy times ahead even af­ter lock­down?

Perthshire Advertiser - - HCEOAVDIED­R-1H9ERDEIRE­CTORY -

COVID-19 is an ap­pro­pri­ate moniker for an af­flic­tion war­rant­ing that num­ber of daily hand­washes.

I swear my dig­its are now 20 years older than the rest of my body, no mat­ter how much cream is slapped on.

This rep­re­sents a per­sonal, di­a­met­ri­cally op­posed, DNA trend.

“Look af­ter your hands and the rest will look af­ter them­selves,” was Nanna’s life­long nugget. Cor­rob­o­rat­ing her case, she passed on, aged 93, with beau­ti­ful hands. Even the nails were long and red.


Lock­down life has af­forded many the op­por­tu­nity of catch­ing up with home-based tasks, of­fer­ing a lack of out­side in­ter­fer­ence and crit­i­cal daily barom­e­ters by which most of us mea­sure our­selves.

How­ever, as the lid slides from our her­met­i­cally-sealed world, are we fit to re-en­ter civil­i­sa­tion or will we crawl, like Ne­an­derthals from our den, mut­ter­ing pa­thet­i­cally about the lack of home groom­ing?

Work­ing at The Times in 1999, I, like the rest of the world, stared in rapt fas­ci­na­tion when Ju­lia Roberts waved from the red car­pet with, gasp, hairy armpits!

What a shocker; ladies aren’t nat­u­rally bald ‘down there?!’

End­less col­umn inches rapidly de­bated this spec­tac­u­lar home-goal. From Cape Cod to Can­berra, girls in­wardly smirked at hav­ing scored against this, ap­par­ently, not so Pretty Wo­man.

But an ex­cuse to ditch per­sonal stan­dards is now sweep­ing the na­tion, with cor­po­rate gi­ant Unilever re­port­ing a slump in toi­letry sales.

Guilty as charged. I have a subscripti­on de­odor­ant ser­vice: ‘Madam, we are de­lighted that your sub­se­quent three re­fills are due for dis­patch’. What?? I’m nowhere near ready for the next batch.

Depi­la­tory dis­cus­sion has also been much in the news. As week seven of our quar­an­tine is reached, it’s not just tem­pers that are be­gin­ning to fray at the edges.

Of course, we were all ag­grieved to hear Do­minic Raab tell us that our lo­cal hostelry might be out of bounds un­til July, pos­si­bly longer. But no trips to the hair­dresser ei­ther? That was the real clincher. 100 mil­lion hands rose in hor­ror.

Over Christ­mas, we vis­ited Bavaria, home to the world­fa­mous, once-a-decade Pas­sion Play. Per­form­ers in the sum­mer­long ex­trav­a­ganza have to be lo­cal - very lo­cal - re­quired to have lived in the host vil­lage of Ober­am­mer­gau for a min­i­mum 20 years.

Qual­i­fy­ing for this de­mand­ing em­ployer and as­sum­ing a va­ri­ety of age-ap­pro­pri­ate roles through­out his 50-odd years, our coach driver was grow­ing his hair for the sum­mer show’s au­then­ti­cally bib­li­cal look.

“I started a year ago,” he told us. “Ev­ery­one does it.”

Ap­par­ently, things get a bit un­com­fort­able when hair reaches your col­lar, but af­ter that it, just feels nor­mal.

Slightly gob­s­macked at this ded­i­ca­tion to his art, I over­looked ask­ing what the lo­cal hair­dresser did ev­ery decade when the en­tire moun­tain-top clien­tele opt out of their ser­vices. Fur­loughed per­haps?

Ref­er­enc­ing this trend, a Pit­lochry friend tells me she’s bro­ken her specs and can’t, there­fore, at­tempt un­der­arm surgery: “I’m go­ing cave­man”.

Only around 70 years ago – when hem­lines and sleeves be­gan to shrink – did ladies start to at­tack their per­sonal un­der­growth.

Like the blos­som­ing mo­tor­way verges cur­rently thriv­ing in the new cut-free en­vi­ron­ment, per­haps there is an ar­gu­ment for a lit­tle less stress over per­sonal veg­e­ta­tion.

Pre­vi­ously sched­uled for May 2020, I note that the Pas­sion Play has been de­layed un­til 2022.

Do you think those beards will be in re­hearsal for a fur­ther two years?

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