The Bald Truth
Americans turn to weaves, rugs, plugs, and drugs to alleviate hair loss, creating a $1.5 billion industry
When Rogaine does work, no one really knows why. This mystery helped stimulate $162 million in U.S. sales of Rogaine last year. Since it is impossible to predict just which lucky few will sprout new hairs after using Rogaine for four months to one year, every balding man and woman has an incentive to try. In addition, research suggests the drug slows the rate at which hair follicles dry up even for those who don't see any regrowth. The only way to tell for sure whether Rogaine is having such an effect is to stop the daily smearings, at which time any benefits gained through the treatments, including new hair, quickly disappear.
Small gain. In business terms, however, Rogaine has so far proved a disappointment (analysts originally predicted annual sales of about $500 million). The main reason is that many users grow frustrated when the drug does not meet their expectations and turn instead to hairpieces or transplants.
A second potentially promising anti-baldness drug, finasteride, which Merck hopes to market as Propecia, is currently under review by the FDA. As with Rogaine, the drug's developer discovered its antibaldness properties by accident (in this case, when developing a drug to treat enlarged prostate glands). Propecia's main advantage over Rogaine would be that it can be taken as a pill, which patients are likely to prefer over a topical application. Its main disadvantage--albeit an uncommon one--is that in clinical trials, 2 percent of the men who tried Propecia experienced "decreased libido." Sorry, Samson.
While scientists concentrate on the small advances in hairline restoration that Rogaine and Propecia represent, entrepreneurs continue to turn out hundreds of lotions, shampoos, and other nostrums whose effectiveness is exposed to little, if any, scientific testing. The trick in marketing this stuff is to obey the FDA's rule against claiming such toiletries can grow hair or prevent its loss--boasts about the way a product will affect the appearance of the hair are allowed--while somehow getting across the idea that they can, well, grow hair or prevent its loss. The greeting callers hear when phoning for information about the Kevis hair-improvement programs thanks them for "taking the first step toward a thicker, fuller, healthier-looking head of hair." But Kevis General Manager Brian Reichenberg might be asking for trouble with the FDA when he boasts that the product "can slow down the hair-loss process dramatically."
Kevis's topical lotion contains a patented formula based on ingredients like thioglycoran and hyaluronic acid. This solution, Reichenberg says, fights against the accumulation of DHT in hair follicles, thereby preventing the chemical process that causes hair loss. The first year's supply of Kevis products costs as much as $1,000. After that, "maintenance" runs anywhere from $300 to $600 a year. The company anticipates taking in roughly $10 million from its 10,000 American customers this year. Reichenberg estimates that Kevis's annual worldwide revenues top $200 million.
An easier category of therapy for nonexperts to assess is the batch of cosmetic products that promise only to camouflage exposed scalp. The most well known of these is GLH ("great looking hair") Formula No. 9--better known as "Hair in a Can"--which several years ago was hawked endlessly on late-night television. Although the product has become a source of easy laughs for comics like Jay Leno, it does serve a useful purpose for those with minor hair loss around the crown. As long as there is enough hair to provide some thin cover to the pate, coloring the scalp can help mask the area of bald skin. But since the product merely reduces the scalp's reflectivity without replicating the volume or strandlike qualities of real hair, those with significant balding, particularly on the front of the scalp, are unlikely to fool their friends or co-workers.
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