Hair loss has a way of creeping up on you. At first, it’s a widow’s peak, then a slightly wider parting. We all remember the ’80s combover – it looks ridiculous but is often a man’s last-ditch attempt to cling to to those last few strands – not to mention his youth.

Ask any barber and they will tell you customers often ask to leave longer layers to pull forward to reduce the visibility of skin. Even if they don’t, it’s usually done anyway.

And I should know.

I was what you might call ‘follically challenged’. My hair loss started in my early 20s, my once-long hair slowly receding over the next decade, the growing shininess of my head illuminated by the bright bathroom lights every time I stood in front of the mirror to brush my teeth.

It wasn’t just a physical blow. It was a crack in my comfortable masculinity. I know other men feel like this too – they just don’t talk about it.

To admit you want your hair back is admitting you have a flaw, and we aren’t so great at that.

Plus, the thing is, it’s not really about hair – it’s about ageing and nothing prematurely ages you like going bald. 

I didn’t want to be roasted by my friends for caring too much about my looks, so discussing hair-loss concerns felt off-limits for me.

‘I was what you might call ‘follically challenged,’ David Allen writes

I tried every ‘snake oil’ treatment on the market. I can tell you there is only one thing that works

Even now – following the metrosexual revolution that made it socially acceptable for men to wear fitted shirts, smell like citrus groves in Tuscany and, dare I say it, moisturise – hair loss remains one of the last taboos. 

Needless to say, I tried every ‘snake oil’ solution out there – parting with my hard-earned dollars with promises of a miracle.

Nothing worked.

The reality is this – once the follicles are gone, they’re not coming back. Yes, you can cling to the remaining hair and opt for the aforementioned combover, whilst dropping fortunes on every ‘miracle’ serum, shampoo and supplement on the market. 

At best, they help you hang on to what you’ve got, as long as you keep paying. But they also serve as a daily reminder that you’re unhappy with your hair and yourself.

So then you’re left with two options: The Hair System (translation: wig) which is pushed by many of the so-called ‘leading hair loss clinics’, or a hair transplant. 

I know a couple of guys with hair systems, not because they told me, but because they’re obvious. And that’s okay. 

But for me, I wanted something permanent and natural.

Jesse also had a hair transplant in Turkey

So, seven years ago I had a hair transplant.

Confidence isn’t something I’ve ever lacked, so my biggest challenge was to admit that I wasn’t happy with the way I looked. Quite simply, my reflection didn’t align with the mental image I had of myself. 

When I had consultations in Australia I was quoted between $27,000 and $32,000. I would happily have paid that for good hair again, but then I read about hair transplants in Turkey.

Not only was it significantly cheaper, but the technology was more advanced.

It was a no-brainer to have the procedure there. 

I asked for a natural, age-appropriate look – not too thick at the front or crown, and with a slight receding forehead – because I had no plans to tell anyone. 

Six months later, the change was undeniable. I looked 10 years younger, my energy levels soared and I just couldn’t believe how good it made me feel.

It was at this moment when I decided to set up Asthetica, with the aim to help other Australians have access to high-quality hair transplants in Turkey.

And those friends who would have made fun of me became my customers. To help overcome potential stigma, we created our ‘Bring Your Mates’ package as everyone has a few mates who are balding. Plus, everything is more fun with friends.

One of my clients, Jesse, was 31 but often mistaken for being in his forties because of his receding hairline. Now he looks his age and will, ironically, probably look 31 when he reaches his forties. This is exactly the type of man I want to help.

There are now lots of places across Australia jumping on the trend by offering low prices comparable to Turkey. But they don’t have the same advanced techniques you get overseas.

And Asthetica charges just $6,500, including the hotel and world-class surgeons.

My motto is do it once, and do it right. That’s what I did – and what I strongly suggest anyone who is ‘follically challenged’ do too.