http://www.thestar.com/living/article/792776--the-brave-man-s-solution-to-baldness?bn=1Do not mock the bald. God will curse you for it.
At least, He’s done it before.
According to the Old Testament’s Book of Kings, a pair of children taunted Elisha for his “bald head.” Corporal punishment being what it was in those days, Elisha called on God to take revenge on his behalf. In a possible overreaction, the Lord summoned forth “two she bears” who came roaring out of the forest “and tare forty and two children of them.”
One bald mocking. Forty-two under-age maulings. That sounds fair.
Smiting aside, a bald man’s options are limited. Plugs? No. Toupées? No. Comb-overs? They deserve their own special curse.
The only reliable option is the total shave, which is tidy but uninspired. This is where Philip Levine comes in.
If you are exceptionally brave, or work in an industry that encourages flamboyance, Levine’s work will interest you. For four years, the 28-year-old Londoner has been using his “lengthening forehead” as a canvas. What started out as a lark has suddenly caught a global wave of interest.
When he first realized he was going bald, Levine did the sensible thing: He shaved it all off. Then he got bored. He found an artist – his current collaborator, body painter Kat Sinclair – who agreed to begin air-brushing murals on to his head. Many of those designs are featured on his website, philsays.com.
Levine’s art-head became a fixture in London clubs and an underground phenomenon. But the whole thing jumped into the mainstream English art-and-design discussion when Levine debuted his “crystal” head.
Using hundreds of thumbtack-sized Swarovski crystals, Levine has created a swooping, shimmery, rockabilly mane. It’s apparently magic in the sunlight. It’s also pleasantly transitory – the crystals begin to fall off after a day’s wear.
Levine’s done pin-heads and a shattered mirrorball effect with shards of glass, but he considers the crystal his “classic look – my Chanel No. 5.”
“I’m wearing my crystal head today,” Levine says on the phone from Merry Ol’. “Because I have meetings.”
Levine works in fashion. He’s also a “cultural attaché” in London’s Dutch embassy, a “trend developer” and a club promoter
Friday morning, he spent two hours painstakingly applying the individual crystals. Then he left home and took the tube to work. The only person who said anything was a small girl tugging at her mom’s coat and whispering too loudly about “that man’s head.”
“She was smiling at me – she just loved it. The adults mainly stare in complete amazement.”
Levine says he is constantly approached by people who want to know how he did it, or to touch it.
What’s the weirdest it’s ever gotten?
“I was at a party and this guy just started completely freaking out and had to start licking my head.”
Sorry? Licking?
“Well, obviously, he didn’t ask. It was quite a weird sensation. You’re like, what’s happening here?”
General reactions aren’t quite so tactile, but they are universal.
“I’m amazed how much of a nerve it’s struck with women as well as men. I’m still trying to understand it,” Levine says. “Universally, it prompts joy in people.”
Levine doesn’t wear art-head every day. He makes decisions based on his mood. On Wednesday, it was a feathered piece surrounded by painted art. On Thursday, he went natural.
The next step is figuring out how he can convince you – yes, you – to buy into his vision.
“There’s ways of making caps, I should think. People have approached me about opening a salon to do this. I’d love to collaborate with an accessories designer,” Levine says. He’s talking to sponsors about an art show and a book.
Sound crazy? Well, how sane does vajazzling sound, and there are plenty of moneyed masochists trying that one out. (Go ahead and Google it.)
“How bald are you?” Levine asks, in the way that only men who understand each other’s pain can.
“Er, a third (pause). Half (pause). Maybe two-thirds.”
“When I come over to Toronto, I’m going to have to crystallize you.”
Note: The crystal head isn’t for sale, yet. It’s only available to patient friends who don’t plan a future in politics.