“The shaitel saved Orthodox Judaism,” a major scholar once
told me. Wearing a wig instead of various kerchiefs and snoods gave
women back a dignity they feared was slipping away. Once Halacha is
perceived to be diminishing, rather than enhancing, one’s essential
humanity, the exit door from Jewish practice looms awfully close.
Having someone else’s hair on your head is still a difficult test for
a woman, but a nice wig can be the difference between alienation and
self-respect.
Still, there is a long way between the wig that looks
lustrous in the ads and luxurious on the shelf to the one lovingly
framing your own face. Somehow those impersonal strands have to mold
themselves into the contours of your head. The “shaitel macher” – half
hairdresser, half plastic surgeon – gives a snip and a tug and a clip
and a stretch until it is yours. No, more than just yours… it is you.
Whether or not it winds up looking as good as you imagined, this
much is clear, it will cost a pretty penny for the wig and a handsome
fee for the cutting and styling. It’s the Orthodox Catch-22: you
can’t get a nice job without a nice wig, but you can’t get a nice wig
without a nice job. What to do? Call The Gemach.
YES, VIRGINIA, THERE IS A GEMACH. The Hebrew term
“gemach” is an acronym for gemilut-chasadim, granting favors. It is
used loosely for any charitable service, from free-loan societies to
placing various key items at the public’s disposal for short-term
usage. There are gemachs to supply bridal gowns to poor girls. The
bride pays for any necessary alterations and for dry-cleaning; beyond
that, she saves a bundle on a one-time item. Others offer chairs and
tables for parties, medical devices, even prescription medicines for
when the pharmacy is closed.
“Why not wigs?” asked Shani Greenfield, and the naysayers
said nay. A wig gemach was absurd and impossible, like a baal-teshuva
yeshiva, a growing Orthodox community in the 21st Century, the State
of Israel or a falafel that doesn’t leak. The Greenfields are not the
type of people who are intimidated by words like “impossible”; if
anything, they are energized by the challenge. Sure enough, the proof
is in the putting… on of over 1000 shaitels.
Here is how it works. Women around the world tire of
their wigs or they just never liked the way it looked on them… After a few
years, there is a hunger for variety. If they can afford it, there is no reason
to stay married to the same clump of hair. Time to dump this one and
move on. Whoa! Wait up.
Why discard it? Out there in the big world, especially in Israel, are
women for whom that wig – your boring, tapped out, overexposed, coming
out of your ears, wig – is the answer to a dream. One woman’s old hat
is another woman’s crown.
Enter Shaitel GeMacher Shani. Instead of tossing your hair, you
can make of it a gift. You dash off a quick e-mail to
[email protected] and a well-oiled operation kicks into gear. You are
contacted for a convenient pickup/dropoff or they’ll send you a postage
paid envelope and your wig makes aliyah. The receipt will be for the full
appraised value of the wig based on its quality and age, and represents a
tax-deductible contribution to charity. Once your wig gets to Israel, it is
washed and set to looks its very best. Then it goes to either a low-income
woman in Israel, a cancer patient, or someone who would’ve otherwise not
covered her hair, who will give it a loving home.

The Greenfields have found that showing the wigs unwashed or giving
them away leaves the recipient feeling cheapened by the process. Instead
they turn their living room into a salon and open to the public by
appointment only. Each item is tagged with a price, about 10% of its actual
value, between 18 and 180 dollars, money which gets cycled back into
charitable purposes. Even these prices are flexible, shrinking when
customers are needier. New brides get a huge discount. The general
attitude is to provide the greatest benefit at the least cost to dignity and
self-respect.
The process of determining who gets which wig is
facilitated by Shani Greenfield’s expertise, honed over years as a
shaitel macher. She will make the adjustments and cuts necessary, for no
extra charge, to let the purchaser feel they are wearing something ideal
rather than provisional, first-class rather than secondhand. A lot of happy
tears are shed in her hairstyling chair, as people who walked in downcast
walk out with an updo. They don’t automatically live happily ever
after, but they do get a head start in that direction.
As this service has become more popular, it has continued to expand. Now
the Gemach actually does wig shows in large rented halls, hiring extra staff
to give demonstrations and advice to potential buyers. Wig manufacturers
have begun to use it as an outlet for products which may not have moved
so well in tonier circles. They sell to the Gemach for a drastically reduced
price, and eventually an easier-to-please young lady is wearing a beautiful
brand-new wig at a price she can easily afford.
Many beautiful individual stories have emerged. Privacy
concerns prevent us from giving out details, but a number of women
have expressed a major shift in attitude, viewing this mitzvah
positively for the first time. Some of the Israelis are newly
observant and bring irreligious relatives along for their fittings.
More than once these relatives have been inspired to commit to
improving their own levels of observance.
Okay, one little story, this one involving Shani’s own wig. She was using
her training as a make-up artist to help a newly religious kallah in Israel
prepare before her wedding. The mother of the bride was keeping up a line
of patter about how she personally was not observant but she would agree
to cover her hair for her daughter’s wedding – except she cannot find a wig
that works for her. Of course, she adds, if I had a wig like yours I would be
fine. “I will give you mine,” Shani said. “and you can keep it if you agree to
wear it more often than just this wedding.” Shani’s nosier neighbors are
still wondering why she left in a shaitel that day and came home in
someone else’s hat.
The experience has been deeply gratifying to everyone
involved. It has proven once again the tremendous benefit of Jews
working together to share their merchandise and their skills. A
little bit of good will can go a long way, helping some people learn
to give and helping others fill an important need. Just because you
can’t use your hair anymore doesn’t mean you can’t use your head.
Shani Greenfield has shown us that this can indeed be done,
and done nicely, done graciously. Anything is possible, that is their
message; the leak-proof falafel cannot be far off.
To donate a wig, or offer to shlep some with you to Israel,
please contact [email protected] or 917-763-8028