Belgian Group Finds New Hairless Recruits : To This Brotherhood, Bald Is Beautiful

“I’d like you to wrinkle your forehead, please,” says master of ceremonies, Fernand Fyon.

“We’ll measure the bald surface between the first wrinkle of the forehead and the first crease in the neck, and multiply that by the breadth from left to right,” he adds.

Then he and 300 spectators watch closely as local hairdresser Suzy Nelis examines the first contestant with a magnifying glass--to check for any signs of cheating--whips out her tape measure, and announces, to loud cheers, “24 centimeters by 15,” about 10 by 6 inches.

Bizarre Beauty Contest

This is the 10th anniversary festival of the Bald Brotherhood of Soiron, and most of the small Belgian town has turned out to watch the bizarre beauty contest, which serves as an initiation to the Brotherhood’s ranks.

Fyon, its president, a 57-year-old builder with two decades of baldness behind him, says the organization is a social forum that aims to help bald people shed any awkwardness they may feel about their hairless condition.

The Brotherhood, one of three such organizations in Belgium, sends delegates each October to the town of Ciney, where they lay flowers at the grave of former mayor Joseph Lambert, founder of the National Bald Brotherhood.

There are also close links with France, which staged its national conference for the bald earlier recently in Angers, and with West Germany, whose equivalent is known as the Club der Fidelen Glatzkopfe (Club of the Jolly Bald Men).

‘Growing Each Year’

International festivals for the bald take place every two years, Fyon said, the most recent being two years ago in Nancy, France.

“We’re growing each year through the number of activities and festivities we organize,” Fyon said on the third and final day of the Soiron celebrations on a June weekend.

“People have thrown away their wigs when they’ve come to us. We’ve helped a lot of people get rid of their complexes.”

The relaxed atmosphere that the Brotherhood offers can play a special role in helping people come to terms with the premature loss of hair, which can result from serious accident or illness, Fyon says.

Symbolic Billiard Ball

Resplendent in red and black ankle-length robes and flanked by seven other high priests of the Brotherhood in similar garb, he steps forward at last to announce the competition results.

Even he, proud owner of a marble-smooth cranium, sounds a note of awe as he awards first place to a contestant with a “magnificent” 168 square inches of bald pate.

Then comes the initiation proper. A robed member of the brotherhood proffers a symbolic white billiard ball on a red cushion, and Fyon intones: “Will you put your left hand on the shining sphere and swear never to modify your coiffure?”

“We swear,” they chorus.

Fyon anoints the new members by pouring a small quantity of brandy from a ladle onto each man’s head, rubbing it into the scalp with a handkerchief and letting them drink the rest.

Lots of Bald Pride

Then everyone retires to the bar, to get down to the really serious business of the weekend.

“The Soiron brotherhood meets on the first Tuesday of each month, whether there’s some subject to discuss or not,” bellows treasurer Jean Pirotte against a deafening background of accordion music.

“We don’t talk about much, we drink,” he adds.

Meanwhile Fyon, proudly surveying the tent full of merrymakers, proclaims, “Baldies of all countries, come and join us at Soiron. We’ve everything we need to take away your complexes and make you proud to be bald.”