When I read about a woman committing suicide in the United Kingdom after a visit to her hairstylist went horribly wrong, my reaction wasn’t the usual, “What a silly reason to kill yourself”. Instead, I could empathise with her. Perhaps this is something only a woman can understand.

We know what it’s like to suffer a bad hair day when all you want to do is hide from view and not allow anyone else to suffer the sight.

The woman in question here had bombarded her stylist with calls and more than 50 text messages begging for an appointment on the day she died. Obviously, not being able to get through and frightened to death (no pun intended) at the thought of having to live with what she considered a vile hair shade must have driven her to this extreme step.

I have rarely come across a woman who is happy with the type of hair she was born with. If it is straight, you can be sure she longs for curls. And if it’s wavy, she will go to any lengths to straighten it. I did read once that the type of hair one is born with is usually what suits us best. I bet the person who came up with that was someone with perfect locks.

My wavy tresses have been trained to lie straight after years of blow-drying and permanent straightening procedures. I have an issue with the word ‘permanent’ though. Nothing is permanent in the world of hair. The first time I heard the ‘p’ word, I was thrilled to bits. I began to envisage a one-off procedure that would tame my locks into submission. But when I began to ask questions and press for a guarantee, I was told that it would last for around six months. When did six months mean permanent? Time is obviously meaningless for people who make such promises.

But I must point out that it isn’t only women who have hairy issues. I have seen men preen before the mirror, trying to fix wayward strands of hair to hide a bald spot. Like a regular commuter on London’s Tube, they ‘mind the gap’. I admire those who give up this vain attempt and shave it all off and sport a bald head. At least they have come to terms with hair loss and realise they have been fighting a losing battle.

More and more young males are resorting to this bare-it-all look. I remember a time when this condition was only suffered by ageing men, not those in their early 20s. So, what is the reason for hair today, gone tomorrow?

Is it the fact that nowadays supermarket shelves are chock-a-block with hair products to treat every possible problem? So, one burns a hole in one’s pocket and tries one exotic-sounding elixir after another, waiting for the miracle to happen. Sadly, all that they experience is that they’ve lost whatever little they had.

There’s a reason why there are flattering terms used for the word ‘hair’ such as ‘crowning glory’ and ‘mane’. Think of the lord of the jungle and you get my drift. It’s supposed to be like the icing on the cake, a rich topping. So, when you find that your locks fall far short of the mark, you can’t be blamed for feeling depressed, even suicidal.

And when a parent has the head of hair you’ve always wanted and which they haven’t bothered to pass on to you, it can make you feel positively deprived and resentful. Isn’t sharing meant to be for good genes, not just the faulty ones?

This is one thing you can’t cover up. Other flaws can be camouflaged but what’s on your head is there for all to see. So, let’s not split hairs, but admit there’s nowhere to hide on a bad hair day.