A hair-raising story

On the whole it's been a good time for bald men. First off, we had the news that Bald Guyz Head Wipes are on sale online.

The name implies pretty much what they are, but apparently they're quite a la mode, made up of an exclusive Swiss formula with green tea extract, to gently moisturise the sans coiffeurs.

Then came Joseph Muscat's class reunion on Xarabank: a consolation 75 per cent of the 34-year old schoolmates were Shaolin Monks; 20 per cent cliffhangers, including Muscat himself (no amount of hair gel or spiky styles will hide the fact); and only five per cent got to keep their hair on.

The question is? What is happening to our men? Or more importantly, to their receding hairlines? Are we slowly edging our way to a nation full of Bruce Willises? Will we reach a stage when seeing a man with a full head of hair will make us suck our teeth, shake our heads and go: 'Tsk, tsk, will you justa look at him, when is he going to shed it?'

As male pattern baldness is hereditary, and we live on a tiny island, it seems like it.

So we all need to learn to embrace this hair-raising situation.

Follicly-challenged men come in different categories. There are those who are in total denial, hair stylishly known as the sidewinders: cue Joe Cutajar, Malta's very own Donald Trump.

Sidewinders believe that by simply allowing the little strands of hair on the side to grow shoulder length and then combing them over their thinning thatch, people will only notice on a God forbid, windy day.

Then there are those who are in semi-denial and despite a bald top, sport a little tufty ponytail at the back.

In all fairness these are becoming a rare species, with the final curtain and chop taken by Mike Spiteri before he set off for the Eurovision - and for this, and this alone, we should all be eternally grateful that we take part.

Baldie denial, like baldness itself, is hereditary and can be traced back to antiquity.

Hippocrates, the Greek father of medicine, prescribed himself a concoction of cumin, pigeon droppings, horseradish and beetroot, albeit with little success. Julius Caesar - What? Et tu Julius? - Indeed.

Please look closely at all his bust sculptures and note that in each and every one of them, his hair is never brushed back.

He was in fact subjected to one of Cleopatra's baldness cures: a paste of ground horses' teeth and deer marrow.

Possibly it didn't work, which might explain Mark-hairy-Anthony's sudden coup de marital status.

But not all men have an issue with lack of hair - some, like the above mentioned Willis are all for it: 'I'm a man and I will kick anybody's ass who tries to tell me that I'm not one because my hair is thinning.'

Clearly a member of the bald and the beautiful club, these are the debonair ones who will flirt and charm the girls.

Example: Yul Brynner, a man with the right balance of authority and allure.

In reality all three categories should follow three sacred rules: If you're under 50, regain hair control by shaving the whole lot off: Off, off, off!

Join a gym. Chubby men with shaved heads tend to look like bouncers (think err...Mike Spiteri again or is it just those wrap around shades?)Never go blonde.

Now I know several women go blonde with the first sprouting of white hair, on the premise that blonde makes the white go hide.

But blonde on wispy bald never works, unless you're willing to have a drip peroxide irrigation system.

If you're running your hand through your hair while reading this and gloating, don't. It's hair today gone tomorrow. Nobody is spared.

Even Prince William at 25 is going a little light on top. And take a look at Sean Connery today and then rewind to his James Bond days.

Which brings me to the final point. David Beckham.

Now there's a guy who can take a shave-off. He certainly deserves those wipes...