I am going to get shot for this post.
[Deep exhale]. Okay, here goes:
Hair loss is, for obvious reasons, a touchy subject. I'm quite sure Luke has been shoved and tripped on the street because his genetically blessed mane has rubbed salt into many a wound. He also obnoxiously lets it grow to point he looks like the Rogatchaver.
To begin: It is not your fault. It sucks. You have my complete a total sympathy. Even Elaine's boyfriend Kurt, who shaved his head, took to his bed when he realized he had gone bald in the interim.
However, there is no going back. It's like when a teenager feverishly attempts to shield a zit—they simply succeed in amplifying its presence.
The first step is acceptance. Perhaps one tried all the remedies—daily, gentle scalp massage with castor oil, for instance—to no avail. It must be acknowledged: the time one had with one's hair is gone, never to return.
My boss, Jack, is devoid of hair. When his son began to show signs of hair thinning when entering his 20s, Jack told him that he had two choices: 1) Toupé. 2) Cutting it off. (The former actually was an option once for frum men who didn't want to wear yarmulkas in their secular workplaces. It has fallen out of style in recent years.)
It seems counterintuitive, yet even this Leah agrees: where hair remains, it must be trimmed short. Going the sleek Yul is not an option for the frum boys, so this applies to you.
I've always thought chassidishe men who buzz down most of their hair to highlight the payos rock their 'do with panache. They own it.
Jason Kearns says that baldness is a way for modern men to make their lives simple and to deal with hair loss with grace. He offers other alternatives to comb-overs and bald insecurity: "Instead of hiding your bare pate," he says, "try to work with it and add accessories like interesting eye glasses or a neatly trimmed beard."
And please, do not use an awkwardly angled kapul as ineffectual camouflage. We all know what's going on under there.
Now I shall duck to avoid the fusillade of bullets.