Chloe Ellen was just seven years old when she lost all her hair to alopecia. She talks to MARION SAUVEBOIS about living with the condition and how she yearns to feel normal for just one day

WHEN a thick clump of hair came away in the palm of her hand, sparks shooting from the nuzzle of the hairdryer in the other, seven-year-old Chloe Ellen gaped at the long locks, feeling for the smooth patch on her scalp intrigued and rather amused.

She should probably let her hair dry naturally from now on, she thought to herself.

But as the days passed and more wisps began tumbling down her shoulders, stray strands strewn on her pillow, it became clear something else was behind her dramatic hair loss. By the time she was diagnosed with alopecia, only a few sparse tufts streaked her balding head.

Twelve years on, her hair has never grown back.

"It doesn't make sense to me," says the 19-year-old, her voice betraying disbelief. "There was a bald patch on the right side of my head. It was pure skin. But at that age it's kind of a funny thing. I just thought maybe it was the hairdryer; I had never used one before. But then that patch on my right side never grew back. It started falling out. It became straggly and thin. "

Her eyebrows and lashes too eventually fell out.

Her parents did not take her hair loss lightly. An appointment at the Great Western Hospital soon confirmed their fears something was seriously wrong. Chloe suffered from alopecia, a rare disease which causes the immune system to attack hair follicles and is much more common in adults. The sudden onset was put down to stress - a dubious and, Chloe believes, unfounded, hypothesis which baffles her to this day.

Her hair may grow back; only time would tell.

A confident child, at that age Chloe did not place much stock in her appearance and, unlike her parents, was not overly concerned about her steady hair loss. But while childlike naiveté and absence of vanity shielded her for a time from the emotional after-shock, others' reaction, including the medical profession, made her plight difficult to ignore. Junior doctors at Bristol Children's Hospital she remembers, lined up to examine the seven-year-old patient with alopecia.

"There were about 30 of them, or it seemed like it then," says Chloe, from Covingham, with a timid smile. "Each one came in separately, stared and touched and asked questions. They said it could have been caused by stress. But if there’s one thing I didn't have it was a stressful childhood. I had a fantastic upbringing. The only trauma in my life was losing my hair."

As her once flowing mane whittled down to "straggly” strands, even she began to take notice. Eventually, a year after first losing her hair, she asked her father to help her shave her head. Except for occasional sparse spots of fuzz, her hair has not grown back.

Adolescence soon changed her optimistic outlook. Her confidence plummeted and she grew increasingly envious of her friends' attractive mops and longed for hair to preen and loop into intricate dos.

Although alopecia has no impact on physical health, hair loss can have severe effects on sufferers' emotional wellbeing and gnaw away at their sense of self and worth.

Secondary school proved a trying time for Chloe. Even though she surrounded herself with a supportive group of friends and was never bullied, she became increasingly self-conscious and crippled with fear she would never lead a normal life or meet anyone willing to accept her. Mainly, she feared she would never be able to accept alopecia as an inextricable part of herself.

"It didn't make sense and it still doesn't and that's the problem," sighs the Nationwide employee. "I would accept it more if I knew why but no-one can tell me why.

"In secondary school, I saw other girls with pretty longer hair and I didn’t have that. No-one ever made negative comments to me but I didn’t feel normal. It got a lot more difficult to accept the fact that I was bald."

She received counselling and started wearing wigs to allow her to blend in and shake the feeling she was lacking in some way.

From NHS-prescribed to store-bought, synthetic to real hair, she spent years hunting for a comfortable wig which would not itch or chafe against her scalp - to no avail.

"I’ve worn every kind of wig, from a €4 wig in Benidorm to a £300 lace-front wig which was very hot and itchy. They didn't last long anyway. I didn't wear really them."

Unable to groom her own, Chloe took to styling her friends' hair and soon found her calling. She enrolled in media and make-up at Swindon College and revelled in creating complex hairstyles on models. This helped to ease her frustration to a degree but never fully quelled her yearning for the soft curls she coiled into impeccable chignons to be her own.

"Ever since I lost mine, I've been fascinated with hair," she explains. "But I often felt quite envious of the models. It was just looking the exact same every day. I wanted to be able to try a pixie cut or a Rapunzel but I never had the chance.”

After more than a decade spent trawling the internet, Chloe who got engaged to fiancé Mike Aley eight months ago, uncovered the perfect wig earlier this year. Unfortunately with a $4,000 price tag it was far beyond her price range. Determined not to let the opportunity pass Chloe by, her best friend launched a GoFundMe campaign in July. Chloe was reticent at first but eventually agreed to reach out to strangers for help. She has raised £250 so far and is crossing her fingers she will reach her £3,726 target.

"This one is perfect because it’s light and comfortable. I can just slip it on and wear it under the shower so it would feel like real hair and I wouldn't be hot in a club or going out for dinner. But the price was so much more than I could afford; it shocked me. I would love to have one. It would make a really big difference."

A part of her still longs for her hair to grow back but she does not cling to hope as she once did.

"Three years ago, we went to the doctor and he said that after five years he wouldn't count on it growing back,” she adds matter-of-fact. “Then two years it started growing back a little. I had a patch at the back of my head. You never know. You try not to count your blessings just in case. I'm always hoping it will grow back. I keep wishing but I don't count on it anymore. It’s still a very big thing in my life and I still can't fully accept it. I've tried. "

She is under no illusion this new wig will be a magical fix for her confidence issues, but she firmly believes it will allow her to feel more at ease in her own skin and slowly but surely come to terms with the very likely prospect she will always be bald.

"I want to be able to go out one day in my life and not have people stare at me,” she says, her eyes lighting up with anticipation. “I don't know what will happen with my hair but I just want to have the chance to know what it feels like to be normal."

To support Chloe go to www.gofundme.com/2bkc6uqc.