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You are here: Liverpool ConfidentialHealth Beauty & Fashion.

Do you take no bottles into the shower?

There are days that are even worse than bad hair days. Liz Lacey dishes the bald truth to the menfolk of the parish

Published on June 22nd 2009.

Do you take no bottles into the shower?

I INSIST, and will persist in insisting, that the woman in Liverpool are among the dressiest in the world.

Sometimes this takes the form of outfits more suitable for warmer climes than ours...sometimes there can be an overdose of pazzazz, but generally we are a decorative lot.

If the chaps are worried about establishing their alpha male credentials, it is much braver to walk about Liverpool with a magenta, early-Bowie mullet than it is to trot around with the regulation ringworm number one

I don’t like the pursed-lipped scrutiny with which sections of the national media fall upon the more extrovert dresser at Ladies Day when the Grand National comes around.

I might shiver at the thought of parading my midsection on Sandhills Station, and, indeed, this might be a sight to turn more stomachs than heads. However, if I had spent a great deal of time and money on the toning and tanning of same, I might reasonably feel justified in getting it out.

In these times of parsimony, for instance, it is cheering to note that false eyelashes of the type usually only seen waving from the eyelids of drag queens, are now a beauty basic. This denotes both bravura and attention to detail. It is not easy to affix four-inch lashes and fingernails which render all practical tasks impossible. It takes grit to essay the uneven pavements and perilous cobbles of our fair city in shoes which have skyscraper-high heels the thickness of a toothpick.

Recently, gay and original things are being done with enormous curlers. The idea seems to be, as it was in the 1960s, that daytime hair is merely work in progress. So strolling about one’s business wearing huge rollers neatly arrayed in serried ranks until it is time to unleash seriously big hair makes sartorial sense. Our girls and women are a cheering sight.

But what is going on with all the men? Liverpool, viewed from space, must resemble a series of fairy-ringed glades, as six or seven men gather together in a drinking circle, their shiny white heads like button mushrooms. Or, in the case of those with a tan, a row of sunburnt knees.

Babies are, as a rule, bald. Old gentlemen are bald. People who have suffered from alopecia are bald. But why is every other chap in Liverpool in possession of a shiny cranium?

I have done a bit of quick and dirty research on this. If you remove from the equation all those blokes who would rather have a shimmering head of skin than be at home to Mr Comb-over, you are still looking at an awful lot of bristling skulls. Is it perhaps some kind of “tough” thing? Are the offices and banks of Liverpool much more combatitive than had previously been imagined?

I have observed, in the more expensive watering holes of the city, gatherings of post-work gentlemen attired in suits for a refreshing after-office G & T . And they STILL sport the “Magwitch the convict from David Copperfield”. Look.

I know a young man who is a credit to his tailor, a stylish and successful “new media” entrepreneur. When first I met him, he had a sternly shaved head. However, the other evening, at the Atheneum, he was looking almost unnecessarily handsome with a growth of Mediterranean looking curls. I swooped and asked him why he had regrown. Of course, it was due to the urgings of his fragrant lady companion .Could this be the first brown shoots of recovery?

I have also seen some cheering signs of foppery in the young. Bold Street is awash with lads who have decided to be more imaginative with their barnets. Swooping side-fringes, feathery bouffant, and even the return of the Afro can be spotted in the bars and boulevards.

Hairdressers, this is to be encouraged. Inthecurrentclimate, (now all one word, like “Sralansuga”), our ecomony needs more expenditure on gels, dyes , fixatives and sprays.

Furthermore, if the chaps are worried about establishing their alpha male credentials, it is much braver to walk about Liverpool with a magenta, early-Bowie mullet than it is to trot around with the regulation ringworm number one. And everyone knows that girls still like boys who look like girls; just a little bit of ambiguity can get a fellow a very long way.

So for the compelling reasons of sexual success and selfless investment in the economy, let’s see a bit more tonsorial variety, men of Liverpool.

And don’t even get me started on blue check shirts...

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14 comments so far, continue the conversation, write a comment.

DigJune 22nd 2009.

I take it you didn't read my comment a little bit further up. Mine will grow back too. But I won't let it in case it grows back like Ian Hislops or a brown Steve McLarens. It's a chance not worth taking. The maintenance of having a skinhead is great too. While you're washing, drying and styling I'm already half way to work!

DigJune 22nd 2009.

I didn't realise us baldies were in such abundance. Anyway, I'm not baldy. I choose to shave it off as the back and sides have thicker hair than the top. I'd rather have a skinhead than let it grow and look like a young handsome version of Phil Spector in his mugshot!!

Hairy an proudJune 22nd 2009.

Bald men are fatally unattractive and shave their ugly skulls to acheive what they mistakenly consider to be a masculine look.Take it from me - bald men are ugly and look stupid with shiny pates.

Liverpool WagJune 22nd 2009.

You've gone quiet on this one, Dig....

Follicular GrandeurJune 22nd 2009.

Hear hear! The ladies spend hours getting themselves immaculate to go out on the town, but their male companions are invariably baldy monkeymen who look like they've just woken up in a skip. Some of them even wearing SHORTS in the town! They shave their comically misshapen heads more assiduously than they shave their stubbled potato faces!

ChasJune 22nd 2009.

Well it's Beatles Day soon....

HeathquiffJune 22nd 2009.

If you see them trying to eat in The Living Room or Heathcote's, you'll see they can't manage a knife and fork either.

The Lunatic FringeJune 22nd 2009.

But Dig, our hair will grow back - HA HA HAHAHAHAHA etc. (Diabolical laughter, carries on for ten minutes)>

The Lunatic FringeJune 22nd 2009.

But Dig, those of us who are beautiful deserve a little 'me time' for daily pampering. Anyway where do you work with a haircut like that? Devil's Island?If you're that anxious about getting to work, why not just stop washing, full stop?

The DoctorJune 22nd 2009.

Their heads look like disfiguring tumours in the pictures above. Or badly shaven testicles.

Lionel BlairJune 22nd 2009.

This silly fashion has led to the situation that in a typical suburban barber's shop these days the staff can't actually use scissors and they just scrape some clippers over the cranium and hope for the best. Needless to say it looks ridiculious within a couple of weeks.

DigJune 22nd 2009.

Thanks Liverpool Wag, look what you've started now. Us baldies are a laughing stock. Revenge will be mine. Be warned, my clippers are cordless!

F. O. BaldyJune 22nd 2009.

They ought to be banned from decent pubs and restaurants unless they wear a wig. Preferably one that is hilarious

Victor SaloonJune 22nd 2009.

These style-less, slack-jawed chumps have put proper barbers out of business. And why do they drink their girlie lager out of the bottle? Can't they manage a glass without spilling it?

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