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so thick it hid her ears. I’ve never seen her hair part around her ears like mine does. There was a period in the 1980s when I wore a variety of berets to hide my Spock ears because, let’s face it, my ears were, and remain, just one more of my many disappointments.
    Back to wigs. First there was the one I wore in
The Godfather
. Robert Evans, the head of production at Paramount Pictures, thought I was too “kooky”-looking for the role of Kay Corleone, so Dick Smith, a.k.a. the Godfather of Makeup, turned me into a WASP with a canary-yellow wig ten times larger than my head. Twenty years later I played Bessie, the caregiver sister in
Marvin’s Room
, opposite Meryl Streep. Bessie is diagnosed with leukemia, undergoes chemo, and loses all her hair. Throughout most of the two-month shoot, I wore a wig donated from a local candy striper volunteer organization. Jerry Zaks, our director, was enchanted by its authenticity. To me, it was sort of a throwback to Jim Rado’s shoulder-length tresses. Only this one was a brunette nightmare from hell. I tried to convince Jerry to give me a chance to wear a hair-hat wig on occasion. Sound strange, a wig sewn into a hat? Not to me. I figured Bessie would look good in a hat. Jerry would have none of it, pointing out that Bessie was not vain. He alsoadded that Bessie was not Diane. Shrugging him off, I continued to press my point, until the day we shot a makeup and hair test for the bald cap I had to wear toward the end of the shoot. As soon as I saw my hairless head, I begged Jerry to please let me keep wearing my candy striper James Rado shoulder-length brown synthetic, almost attractive wig. That is, until the day Meryl told me we both looked like shit. Frankly, I was relieved that she included herself.
    The last wig I ever wore, both on- and offscreen, was a curly shag in the practically straight-to-video movie I made with Dax Shepard called
Smother
. Enough said.
    As Dexter and I sat in the car at the Chevron gas station, I breathed a sigh of relief. We were two females, one mother, the other daughter. Yes, Dexter had run a red light, but we all make mistakes in the process of learning something new. In the peace of the moment, I mentioned my dream. Dex nodded and, after her quiet way of gathering thoughts, responded with a hair dream of her own: “Okay, Mom, I’m looking through my hair, and it starts falling out in clumps. My head has bloody sores, and blisters, and even holes in the flesh. Every time I look, it’s worse than before. It was so creepy. I kept trying to find you and Duke to help. But you were nowhere to be found.”
    “Wow, Dex, I bet you’re glad it’s not a reoccurring dream.”
    “But it is. That’s the horrible part, Mom. It is.”
    I told her that the meaning of dreams is hard to unravel. I told her that she of all people will never have to worry about blisters and sores on her gorgeous hair. Ever. Her hair is perfect. And I was telling the truth.
    Woody used to dream of hair loss. Not now. He’s done very well retaining what hair he has. Warren used to pontificate on the subject for hours, insisting that hairdressers were worth their weight in gold. According to him, hair was, in fact, 60 percent of good looks. This philosophy must have at least partially inspired him to produce and star in the box office blockbuster
Shampoo
. With hair on his mind, you can imagine how taxing it must have been for him to select the hairstylist for his Oscar-winning movie
Reds
. His pick? Barry Richardson, who did Julie Christie’s hair in
McCabe and Mrs. Miller
. Barry was a hairdresser genius, but in truth
Reds
was more hat movie than hair movie. I wore a variety of broad-brimmed hats, several variations on the beret, a number of cloches, and, in one pivotal scene, a peasant scarf tied at the back of my neck. It was all so perfect. I couldn’t have been happier. During the weekends I roamed through London’s Portobello Road, my favorite flea market. One Sunday,