I wear wigs.
There, I said it publicly.
Whew.
For some reason, there is still some stigma around wigs.
The backstory for me isn't sad or dramatic.
It is just that, well, peri-menopause can be a bitch.
About six months ago, in addition to weight gain that makes me see Winnie the Pooh in my silhouette, my already baby-thin hair thinned out to the point I felt self-conscious.
It is a fluctuating hormone thing, apparently.
My husband, close friends, and very supportive hairdresser say my thinning isn't so bad at all—hardly noticeable.
But I was thinking about my hair while interviewing folks for my job, which isn't where my focus should be.
Today, I feel so much better and even enjoy picking and styling my wigs.
But to start, the alternative hair world was utterly overwhelming.
There are different kinds of caps and fibres. Do you want heat-friendly, synthetic, or human hair?
And they all need maintenance. Got a clothes steamer? Well, you will need one if you wear synthetic wigs.
Heat-friendly wigs must have heat tools applied to them.
(Are you keeping up?)
And you need accessories, like a wig grip, clips, a wide-toothed comb, and a mannequin head!
There is so much conflicting information that, not going to lie, it brought me to tears trying to sort through it.
Finally, I found a Canadian YouTube channel called Wigs with Steph. Her videos on YouTube have garnered about 2.5 million views, and she is active on social media. She also has a private community on Skool where she helps people with their wig issues. She and a couple of other wig educators (wig influencers?) have opened my eyes to a whole new world and dried my tears in the process.
I am going public with my wig-wearing because I didn't know anyone in Squamish going through what I was.
According to the stats, though, you are out there.
A report in Harvard Health says, "about one-third of women experience hair loss (alopecia) at some time in their lives; among postmenopausal women, as many as two-thirds suffer hair thinning or bald spots."
There are likely lots of reasons not to go public, but my only real hesitation was shallow. Not quite vanity, but—I mean, it feels good to have nice hair and for people to think it is mine.
But as a reporter who expects the truth and vulnerability from others, it feels right I walk the talk, so to speak.
Because her honesty was such a help to me and because she is a homegrown independent creator (she lives in Alberta), I recently interviewed Wigs with Steph's Stephanie Mitchell by phone.
What follows is a version of that wide-ranging conversation that has been edited for length and clarity.
Q: Can you tell me about your thought evolution from hair loss to wigs, to deciding to go public with your channel?
A: My hair loss has always come in waves, but I remember the first time I noticed it falling out more than usual. It was all over my pillow. It was coming out in clumps in the shower. And I was eventually diagnosed with Graves' disease, which was the trigger. At that time, I was very panicked. I felt alone. I didn't feel like myself anymore. I didn't want my friends, my family, or coworkers to know what I was going through at the time, so I did everything I could to hide it.
I dove really heavily into research. I watched so many YouTube videos, I went to wig boutiques, I read blogs, but I literally couldn't find a single wig that looked real enough to me for what I wanted, and even the in-person shops were disappointing.
There were a lot of tears in those days. I realized that when it came to wigs, I was totally on my own. In time, year after year, I eventually taught myself how to make wigs work for me.
One morning after putting on my wig, I actually caught myself smiling in the mirror, genuinely smiling, because I felt like I had it figured out. I had often scrolled on YouTube. I liked watching all the new wig styles being released, but the more videos I watched, the more I realized something was missing. So many of the tips and advice didn't feel real or honest to me, and a lot of it seemed driven by brands. It didn't reflect the real emotional journey of hair loss and what I knew it to be. On top of that, a lot of the wigs being promoted didn't look real, and it just drove me nuts. So, I decided to start my own channel.
Q: Who is your audience?
A: The majority of my audience is definitely women. There are some men, but it's mostly women, often in midlife or beyond. I have some as young as 25 years old, and I have some teenagers who watch too, but it's not the majority. I hear from people navigating menopause, others who are postpartum, and women with autoimmune conditions like alopecia or Graves' disease. So many people dealing with genetic thinning have been struggling since their 20s.
Q: If you could change one thing about how wigs are marketed, sold, or discussed, what would it be?
A: It would be the lack of honest education and empathy that are often missing—the why of it. Because so many people entering the wig world for the first time are doing it because of something deeply emotional, like a diagnosis, postpartum changes, aging, or autoimmune disease, and what they're often met with is just, "Here's a pretty wig. Buy it." You know? There's rarely any explanation about why a wig was designed the way it was. What the cap features are actually for. Or how to find what works best for you.
Q: How important is it that partners are supportive during this wig journey?
A: It's so important, and I'm lucky that I have one. It's important because when you go through hair loss, you look different, and in turn, you feel different. And when you feel different, you'll act different.
They don't necessarily have to understand what you are going through, because it is hard for people to get it—most men don't seem to feel the same way about their hair loss—but just to support you no matter what.
That can just be thrown out in conversation, "I love you no matter what."
I wasn't always the nicest during my bouts of hair loss, because I was very upset about things, and he was just there for me. And he never said anything negative. It was always positive.
I've been with my husband for over a decade now, but I had hair loss before that. So when I was dating with hair loss, that was a challenge, because I did meet people who weren't as supportive, but to me, it was almost like a way to weed through people. Hey, this person will not be a good partner for you. So, you know, next!
Q: The secret of wig-wearing is that once you sort through the confusion, it gets really fun, and there is such a beautiful community around it. Can you speak to that?
A: There's something special that happens when the confusion lifts and you start having fun with wigs. You realize you can express yourself in ways you never could before. You can wear something shorter, longer, lighter or darker.
You can feel like yourself again, or you can even discover a new version of yourself you never thought you'd get to meet. What makes this community truly beautiful is that I've seen women cheer each other on, share tips, cry with each other and build friendships over a shared experience that used to make them feel so isolated. It becomes less about hiding and more about embracing—embracing your needs, your beauty and your adaptability.
Q: Someone reading this may be tearing up because they are losing their hair and thinking of getting a wig. What would you like to say to them?
A: That I see you and I have been you. I understand that hair loss can feel like the ground is shifting beneath you, like you're losing a part of yourself, and no one really gets it. I want to say that it's OK to grieve it. What they're feeling is valid, and they're not being vain, and they're not overreacting. They're human, and this is hard. But this does not have to be the end of their confidence. I truly think that it can be the beginning of something really empowering because a wig isn't just hair. It's a tool that can help you feel like you again, not somebody else, not a version you're trying to pretend to be, but the version of you that walks out the door feeling strong, beautiful and seen.
I would want them to know that they're not broken. They're becoming someone even more resilient, though it never feels that way at the beginning. It has a way of revealing parts of you that maybe you didn't know you had, like strength, self-awareness, and compassion, not just for others, but for yourself. And this whole experience invites you to grow and honour your feelings and discover a kind of confidence that isn't tied to what's on your head, but to who you are.
