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Med Humanities 38:63-64 doi:10.1136/medhum-2011-010088
  • Poetry and prose

The colour of scrambled eggs: a dramatic monologue

  1. Abir Hamdar
  1. Correspondence to Dr Abir Hamdar, Department of English and Creative Writing, Lancaster University, 54 Portland Street, Lancaster LAI 1AY, UK; a.hamdar{at}hotmail.com

I drive and look for the gallery. No sign indicates its existence but I find it. It's not an art gallery … only a wig gallery. We want to buy wigs. Like sheep we flock to Beirut's oldest wig specialist. Natural hair, horse's hair, hair made of nylon … at Bechara Karkafi's Gallery. The women reject the horse's hair. But the price of natural hair is too expensive. Maybe it's taken directly from a dead woman's head.

“No, no, not always! Some women just sell their hair for money”, Monsieur Karkafi explains.

Dead or poor heads … it doesn't matter. The price of natural hair is still too expensive. Half the women opt for horse's hair, never for nylon hair.

The gallery is already full when I arrive … with wigs and bald heads. Curls, bobs, chignons, updos and wispy fringes! Long razor cut layers, subtle layering, medium straight and squared bangs!

“Didn't you ever wish you had Marilyn Monroe's curly cut? Jackie Onassis's bouffant? Farrah Fawcett's feathered style? Remember you don't necessarily have to remain who you are but what you want to become! Focus on the woman the wig …