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"I've probably endorsed every haircare brand there is in India at some point in my life, recalls Sonali Bendre Behl as we sit down to chat in her Juhu home. "In fact, my first movie came after shooting the Parachute hair oil commercial. It's mid-January, and the Behls are having an extended Christmasa smattering of pine cone ornaments and mistletoe wreaths stand out in their beige living room. Amidst throne-sized armchairs, vintage spotlight lamps and a heavy wrought iron centre table, Bendre, dressed in black sweat pants and T-shirt, looks diminutive, almost sinking into the oversized sofa as Icy, her beloved Golden Retriever, finds a cosy spot to keep her feet warm.
Bendre's signature coiffure is gone. Instead, she is sporting a short crop today with the confidence she must have had in her modelling days. Most of us will agree that haircuts possess a transformative quality. In movies, they work as a powerful visual device to denote personal transformation; in real life they signal a fresh start and often come documented on social media with the hashhtag #NewMe. However, cancer shaves are a sobering moment. And even as we find ourselves surrounded by more and more bald icons in the 21st century Sinad O'Connor, Amber Rose, Adwoa Aboah and even Mad Max's Furiosathe mane, for most women, acquires an all-encompassing life of its own. "I'm okay with it now... I don't even miss it, says Bendre as she runs her hand neck upwards. "Yet it [my hair] was the be-all, end-all of my life. It was this stupid thing that I was hanging on to, she shares. "My instinct was to wear a cap, a scarf or a wigbut these things are so ugly. I knew that if I had to accept it [going bald], I had to put a picture out there. Because once you share it on social media, you can feel the release.
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