Hair Apparent Woman Who Have Lost Their Hair Through Chemotherapy Can Feel Like ‘It’s Me Again’ With New Hats And Scarves

Candy Swanson makes bald chic. Her high cheekbones and elegant ears work well with her attractively arched skull.

But Swanson is no fashion pioneer. Her hair fell out in handfuls during chemotherapy treatments last fall for ovarian cancer.

Most days, she just wants to look like other women, with wind-blown bangs or a stray curl. Her friend, Susie Toronto, says, “No problem.”

As Swanson braved the unnerving world of cancer treatment, Toronto locked herself in her sewing room. She emerged with a padded scarf complete with bangs made from human hair and presented it to her friend.

“I put it on and I felt like me again,” Swanson says, turning her grateful eyes to Toronto. “I no longer felt like a cancer patient.”

Swanson was so impressed with her friend’s creation that she pressed her to refine and market it. The two women designed a variety of hats and scarves for different personalities, occasions and outfits, named the product “It’s Me Again” and launched their first national ad campaign last month.

Donna Huff directs the patient support program at Nashville’s Vanderbilt University Medical Center. She saw the hat ad and telephoned Swanson immediately to order a sample.

“So many women tell me they don’t mind losing a breast, but losing their hair is devastating,” Huff says. “When I saw this, I thought it was tremendous. I’m always looking for anything new for the patients.”

Now, Swanson’s phone rarely stops ringing. It’s the business line for their new company, Perfect Solutions.

“It’s so simple,” Toronto says. She holds up a hat with thick blond bangs hanging from the front. “Why it isn’t out there already is beyond me.”

Swanson and Toronto are so close they finish each other’s sentences. They met on a tour of Israel 10 years ago. Toronto was a hairdresser and fashion designer from Utah, Swanson a homemaker from Coeur d’Alene.

“I didn’t know whether to hang out with her or her kids,” Toronto says with a laugh. She was 28. Swanson was 41.

They didn’t keep in touch after the tour. But Toronto moved to Hayden Lake five years later and telephoned her tour buddy.

The friendship blossomed as they combined their whirlwind energy to accomplish projects for their church. Then Toronto began cutting Swanson’s hair, and the accompanying deep talks cemented the relationship.

Last June, Swanson asked Toronto to trim her hair before she entered the hospital for surgery. Swanson didn’t know what the surgery would reveal. Her husband telephoned Toronto after doctors found ovarian cancer. He asked her to join them at the hospital.

“Susie assured me I’d be so well taken care of,” Swanson says. “I wish everyone had that gust of fresh air and sunshine to sweep in and take care of them.”

Swanson knew she’d lose her hair during chemotherapy, but she faced it with a blend of resignation and upbeat curiosity. Still, she wanted options.

The turbans she’d seen on other people were as subtle as neon signs flashing the words “Cancer victim.” Quality wigs were expensive and never quite right.

Toronto had seen the problem before and knew what to do.

She’d sewn synthetic hair into padded scarves for other bald women. But fake hair can’t be curled and a blast of heat from the kitchen oven can singe it.

So Toronto bought a weft of reddish-brown human hair from a beauty supplier. It was Swanson’s color.

She padded a scarf with blanket material so it looked like hair was beneath it, and stitched the hair weft to the front. She was careful to leave hair in the temple area.

Then she trimmed the bangs to fit and styled them while Swanson wore the scarf. After Swanson’s instant thrill over her restored looks, the pair analyzed the scarf.

They decided they needed a variety.

“We’d list all the friends we could think of and think, ‘What would I put on her?”’ says Toronto, who wears hats over her blond hair just for fun. “One day I was watching the O.J. (Simpson) trial and saw Marcia Clark and decided to design one for her.”

They also decided to stitch the hair to a Velcro strip so it could be switched from hat to hat and washed separately.

While Toronto fiddled with new styles, Swanson hit the telephone, searching for human hair distributors and natural fabrics outlets.

“We knew nothing,” Swanson says, sharing a knowing laugh with her friend. “But everyone told us something.”

The women knew the idea was a winner after Swanson returned from a shopping trip in Spokane last September. Sales clerks in several department stores had admired the beautiful scarf around her hair. No one mentioned cancer.

“The bangs give me a choice when I want to talk about my cancer,” she says.

The two friends decided in October to dive head-first into business. Toronto designed six models and accessories to go with them. The pillbox hat is Swanson’s favorite. Toronto likes a more form-fitting cap decorated with raw silk rope ties.

All the hats are brimless and have drawstrings for sizing. The hair comes in dozens of Caucasian shades and textures and in several African.

A nationwide search for a manufacturer ended in St. Maries. Toronto and Swanson placed their first national ad in December in Coping, a magazine for cancer patients.

Swanson bares her head with a broad smile in the ad, which also shows her wearing one of Toronto’s hats.

“OK, I’m bald. I have cancer,” she says frankly. “I have nothing to hide.”

She has stubble covering her head now, but expects to lose it with more chemotherapy. Ovarian cancer is manageable but not curable yet. Swanson says she’ll stick to an aggressive treatment plan.

Vanderbilt Medical Center’s Huff says she expects the hat will be a hit with people who are tired of looking like cancer patients. And, she says, the $39.95 price tag is hard to beat.

Swanson and Toronto believe they could get more for their hats. But they didn’t design them to get rich.

“We want women to have options,” Toronto says, nodding her head firmly. “We want them to say, ‘We can do this. We can do bald. We can survive cancer.”’

Between October and January, they sold about 50 hats, mostly to patients who have seen Swanson in hers.

Since the ad came out a few weeks ago, they have received 50 more orders and calls from all over the country. Many people want brochures. Some order based on nothing more than the ad’s black and white photos.

Nancy Seigfreid, who lives in Akron, Ohio, received the hat she ordered last week. She left an ecstatic and thankful message on Swanson’s answering machine. Other buyers have done the same.

Swanson and Toronto haven’t considered creating a model for men. But they do plan hats for girls. Toronto envisions something with a ponytail hanging from the back and no bangs.

“So they don’t end up like this,” Swanson says, twisting her hat until her bangs cover one cheek instead of her forehead.

The two friends have no idea how far they’ll go with their products. Swanson already is talking about replacement eyebrows and knows other needs will arise as she fights for life.

“We need things to uplift us, makes us laugh, look pretty,” she says softly. “The more options we have, the more we feel in control. We have to feel in control to get on with feeling better.”

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: 2 Color photos

MEMO: For information on “It’s Me Again,” call 800-296-3098.