Have you ever worn a wig?

I wore a wig for a school's theater production.  Wearing the wig for a few hours was very, very uncomfortable.  Lucky for me that I don't live in the 18th-century when most males wore wigs during their waking hours.  

Nope 

I have worn wigs since I was 18 years old. My first wig was so I could look like the Goul  he was a late night scary movie TV hoist in Detroit. My second wig was a Head Bangers wig and I sometimes used it when I had to play some hot licks on my Air guitar. The wig I have now makes me look like Chong (from Cheeh and Chong) I use it once a year when I go to the anual outdoor canibis growers gala. Cheers!

For Halloween one year.  It had dead creatures coming out of it.

 

  In college, at the beginning of the year we were informed that we would have to give a presentation in front of the class for mid-terms, we were required to use some type of visual aid that would grab attention, it was a large percentage of the grade, and we had wide latitude as to how we could approach it. The professor and my fellow students knew quite well by the time mid-terms were approaching what an incorrigible ham I am, and that I’m the type of person who thrives on public speaking as opposed to fearing it or despising it the way that do many others do. Almost every previous time I got in front of the class, I turned it into fun and entertainment. As such, by mid-terms, they were expecting something big, and I knew it. Inwardly, I vowed not to disappoint. Most others were devising charts or graphs or posters, etc. “Yawn,” I thought. I spoke with the professor and asked if a wardrobe change might count as a visual aid. She laughed, knowing how outlandishly I think, and told me that if it caught attention, I was sure to pass that portion of it. Without revealing my plan, I assured her it was probably something she had never seen a student do in any of her classes. 

  When my turn came, I excused myself to get into costume. Preparation time counted as part of the presentation, so I was on the clock. There was really no place outside of the classroom to do so; the restroom was too far away, and besides, I didn’t want to walk across campus in this ridiculous getup. I had planned for this, though, and I was wearing half of my outfit under my clothes, the other half I had practiced at home several times to get into it in under a minute. There was a small broom closet or storage space in the classroom, but it was about half the size of those old fashioned phone booths. My only option, I took it.

  When I burst out of that door and bounded to the front of the classroom, everyone was spilling from their chairs bent over in laughter. There I was dressed like a 1970s television game show host, complete with loud fluorescent sports jacket, pastel dress shirt, loud and obnoxious necktie, striped corduroy bell-bottom slacks, white leather shoes, and a thick white faux leather belt. I held a prop microphone in one hand, the long thin version from Match Game fame. From the second I emerged, I was in character, treating the students as my studio audience and the professor as a guest contestant. I delivered a rapid-fire litany of trite banter that introduced the subject matter, but I did it as if I were talking about the sponsors and their products. The piece de resistance, however, was a cheap wig I wore, a toupee really, but it was about three shades lighter than my dark skin, and it was a 1960s (men’s) pompadour hairstyle. It didn’t match me in any way whatsoever, but I played the part perfectly, even flicking the bangs out of my eyes and smoothing the hair back and combing my fingers through it every few seconds like an egotistical Hollywood prima duda.* From beginning to end, went on as I had rehearsed it, feeding off of their guffaws like a crack addict who found a week’s or month’s supply.

  No one stopped laughing at all during my whole spiel, not even the professor.  They could barely pay attention to what I was saying, all focus was on how I looked and acted. I kept them in stitches the entire time.

  After I was done and took my seat, the whole costume was the object of everyone’s questions, but especially the wig. They wanted to know where I had found it. I explained that originally, I was just going to use the cheap suit and the microphone as my visual aids, but searching for just the right (cheesy) look, I struck out everywhere I went. A salesclerk suggested I go to thrift stores, second-hand clothing shops, flea markets or the swap meet. While there, someone else suggested a costume shop. Perfect! I put together the outfit from a combination of those places, but the latter had a collection of wigs that lit a lightbulb in my head. I selected the worst-looking one they had, and the rest is history.

  Were it not for my accompanying written notes that I had to turn in (no one else had to because they could be heard and understood when they were up there), the professor wouldn’t have had any way to evaluate me academically. I received a very good grade overall, and was satisfied with it.

*That‘s no typo.

This post was edited by Randy D at July 1, 2021 2:03 PM MDT

Yes, in Norfolk my GF and one of her friends dressed me up as a woman for a costume Halloween party. Three guys hit on me.

In my twenties I had a short-hair wig.  I had long hair.  I enjoyed pinning my hair up on my head and wearing that wig sometimes.  I wore it to work about once a week.  I once was laughing hardily and looked toward the ceiling and the thing fell off.  The whole office erupted into boisterous laughter and I think I wee-weed a tad. 

Never.

In theatre, and a few times for Halloween. Alice Cooper and Paul Stanley have much longer hair than I do.

Back in the 80's when hair bands were the vogue, my new friend said come we me, and, he wore makeup and a wig and that's about it while he played hard rock guitar guitar,..I can't recall the name but Savage something I think in a small bar in Bellingham Washington about 1983. He had lipstick and eyeshadow on. But he did bare his teeth during the show. Ya! He bared his teeth wide angry while he whacked his loud guitar to shreds.! Definitely trans by today's standards. Long hook nose. Ummm. I'll guess he was Gary. No! I remember now. Tommy. Yup! Lipstick. Big red lips. Colored hair. wig at least. I think. He implored to me his landlord beat him up for the rent and he had a black eye. He sure did chain smoke though. Like a chimney as a matter of fact. He is probably long dead from a drug overdose by now or into the land of alcohol abuse. Living with disease and warts. Spooky days. This post was edited by CosmicWunderkind at July 1, 2021 8:09 PM MDT

No! I love my shaved head.

I  got A John Travolta wig for Grease. Also a bonnie blue wig for a charity walk.