Thanks to alopecia, Abby Andrew can be whoever she wants to be. You might catch her in a blonde wig as Barbie one day and bald as Cassandra Nova from Deadpool the next.
Andrew is part of the cosplay scene in New York City, joining others who love to dress up and embody fictional characters. Cosplay emerged as a valuable outlet while Andrew navigated her personal style as a young adult with alopecia areata, an autoimmune condition that causes hair loss. But alopecia has been part of her story since toddlerhood. She shares that story with Health below.
You haven’t always had the bold, diverse wig styles that you proudly wear today. Tell us about your initial experience with wigs during grade school.
Andrew: My hair started falling out when I was around 2, so I don’t remember a time when I had hair. I just wore hats and had some fun trying on different wigs.
I’d switch between wearing hats and wigs to school, which was very confusing to other kids. My classmates’ questions made me uncomfortable. I eventually decided it was easier to just wear the same wig every day.
By middle school, the only time I’d switch up my wig color was during summer break when I wasn’t seeing the same people every day.
When did that shift toward openness about your condition really start?
Andrew: College was a fresh start. Nobody knew me, and I saw it as a chance to try being more open about my alopecia. That didn’t exactly work out at first. Because nobody knew me as the kid with alopecia, I found it hard to bring it up at all! Sure, I’d made the dramatic switch to a brunette wig after years of wearing a blonde one—but I was the only one who knew that.
Dating brought a new layer of anxiety. I didn’t want to date anyone unless they knew about my alopecia, but I was terrified to tell people face-to-face. So in 2014, I posted a Facebook status to tell everyone all at once. It was just two lines:
“Hey, just so you all know, I have alopecia, which means I wear wigs. You might see me switching them.”
I shut my laptop and didn’t look at it for hours. When I finally opened it, I had so many supportive comments. That moment changed everything. Until then, I had this constant mental list of who knew, who might know, and who I wanted to tell but didn’t know how.
Did that public announcement flip a switch in how you carried yourself with alopecia?
Andrew: No—it still took about a year to actually start changing my wigs more freely. I started small: same wig, different color. When speaking with someone, if I felt comfortable in the moment, I’d explain that alopecia was the reason behind my changing hairstyles. Every time I did it, it got a little easier. Sometimes I’d choke on the words, but over time, I learned that people weren’t reacting negatively. I wish I’d realized sooner nobody was going to shun me.
I realized people weren’t paying as close attention to me as I was to myself. And I realized there is so much beauty in being unique.
You’ve said cosplay is a confidence-boosting tool for you. How so?
Andrew: In college—maybe sophomore or junior year—I really wanted to start wearing different wigs to class but was scared of drawing attention. Halloween helped. That holiday routinely served as “training wheels” to wear fun and different wigs in public without anyone questioning it.
Eventually, I got into cosplay. There are characters who are bald, and it was the first time I felt confident going out without a wig. Tank Girl was my first character. Taking off my beanie and stepping into Comic-Con gave me a kind of freedom I hadn’t experienced before. That comfort eventually carried into my day-to-day life.
What is your relationship with the alopecia community like? Do you wish you’d had more exposure to this kind of support earlier in life?
Andrew: My parents took me to my first National Alopecia Areata Foundation (NAAF) conference when I was 5 or 6. It was the first time I’d ever seen a bunch of kids with alopecia. I remember swimming in the hotel pool without a wig and not feeling different for once. At home, taking off my wig to swim always felt like a thing. There, it was normal.
Until last year, that was the only one I attended. I wish I’d been able to do it annually. Attending alopecia conferences is very expensive. That kind of cost can be a real barrier for families, even though those events can be so helpful for kids. Luckily, awareness and support for people with alopecia are more accessible now thanks to social media and offerings like virtual meetups.
Last year, NAAF invited me to attend one of their conferences as a speaker. They found me through social media and asked me to lead a session on makeup for alopecia, like applying fake lashes and doing brows. After my talk, people kept coming up to me saying they’d never worn lashes before but were wearing them now. That meant a lot.
