I had become increasingly conscious of the loss of hair on my middle crown at the back of my head.
And about three-and-a-half years ago I was standing at the Arena, GrandWest with my back facing the audience during a technical rehearsal before I sang, and they were checking the camera feeds with two screens, and there was one massive shark’s tooth in front of me, that is like a cyclorama, a white screen.
They were focusing on my back moving up to my head and I then realised how very bad my hair loss was.
It was like a 10kg hammer knocking my shoulders.
I was horrified, shocked. The vanity you don’t realise you have about your hair only comes to bear when you starting losing it. And when you see how much hair you have lost
I always knew that there was a possibility, because my dad had bad loss of hair at that particular spot also.
But because I’ve got very thick black hair, I thought, ag, it won’t happen to me. And I ignored it for a long time, until this realisation on stage.
I’m one of those people who is “all or nothing”. So I went into extreme anxiety overdrive about it.
I was suddenly aware of the comments around it, to the point where my closest friends started ragging me.
I would have my hair cut medium length in the front and leave it a bit longer over at the balding patch so I could comb over it a little. Ouch.
Then my publicist, Andre Gilbertson, began doing publicity for a new company opening in Cape Town and told me about it. And this got me thinking.
I have friends who wear wigs and have had hair transplants, and none of it looked real to me, so I was afraid of going that route. In the work I do, it’s imperative to look great.
All or nothing: I’d rather go bald than have something not look right.
Then Andre asked if I was interested in Brandwood Clinic and told me they had just got to study this technique, non-invasive and I immediately said yes, because I trust her.
I read up on them, checked out the videos and checked people’s responses to the treatment. And I was pleasantly surprised.
When I walked in, I immediately felt comfortable. The setting is not sterile like a hospital, and Kim and James are lovely.
So, I went into the treatment room and James pulled on these surgical gloves and I was nervous again. But they were just for putting pigmentation into my scalp. They have to be sterile about this and take precautions.
James told me the process would take at least two hours, and he wanted to test a patch of my scalp first.
He assured me it would not be painful, and when the first few dots went in, it wasn’t even a fraction eina - it felt like little pinpricks.
Once my hair was pulled over, I could tell the difference. Not much of a difference, but there was a difference.
The second session and third session were more of the same. Very comfortable, very relaxed.
But by the end of the third and final session, boy, oh boy. By the time James had finished I was beyond impressed: excited overwhelmed, happy, joyful.
I was close to tears because I no longer needed to walk around with that complex of losing my hair and having people talk about it.
And having my own daughter joking about it, rubbing my bald spot as she walked by me... Well it ain’t there any more, its gone!
I know that the hair isn’t there, but I know that the patch is covered and the process is non-invasive and it looks natural, because it’s 3D mapping.
Alistair Izobell with James Hannah and Kim Jessop at Brandwood Clinic. Picture: André Gilbertson
And it’s beautiful and I feel excited and people are now kind of looking at me and going “daar’s iets verskillend van jou”. Well dear, you can’t joke about the bald patch any more!
So I advise anyone, and I know that it’s a challenge when you lose your hair if you have that problem, go for a consultation about scalp micropigmentation (very fine tattooing).
A consultation is free - go and find out how you can change your life.
* Alistair Izobell is an entertainer, director, writer and performer.
** The views expressed here are not necessarily those of Independent Media.