I have phantom hair syndrome. There, I said it.

I only became aware of it this summer while watching videos and pics of myself surfacing after a jump into the sea.

It seems that as soon as I break the surface, I “Baywatch head-flick” as if I had a full Pamela or Hasselhoff on my bonnet. Not only this, I also run my hands over my head as if to clear my eyes of some mythological mop of wet tangled luxuriant hair.

I started losing my hair in my 30s and for a moment I panicked, but panic very quickly turned to acceptance and I haven’t thought 2ice about it since. In fact I’ve never been happier, nor more popular with the gals.

So, what to do about my phantom follicle syndrome? Nothing! To me it’s a pleasant reminder of the old me – when I had a full bean of Jew-fro and was the envy of every woman, who would randomly approach me on the street and touch my head with glee, wishing they too had natural curls.

But I don’t need your envy now, I’m just thankful that I’ve got a decent shaped skull, closer to Patrick Stewart than to John Merrick.

Captain Awesome, Sardinia, Italy. Aug, 2015