DAVID Beckham must have the most pampered and remarked-upon hair ever to have sprouted on a British man.

Every new foolish whim that adorns his head is treated as a national happening, an event to raise eyebrows and headlines.

Now it is possible to weary of this obsession with one man's penchant for show-off hairdressing. It is equally possible that such an observation merely counts as jealousy from those of us whose eyebrows would have to raise an awful long way before they found hair.

Some of us can only choose between balding with mad bits at the side, or balding but tidy. Braids, I'm sorry to say, are out of the question.

David Beckham's hair has been remodelled more times than the old Ford Escort, passing through floppy, striped, shaven-headed, spiked, pretty-boy flicked and Alice-band girlie to arrive at its latest incarnation, a braided cut that apparently costs £450 and takes four hours to execute.

At a rough estimate, with maths not being a strong-point, that is almost 100 times the cost of taming what remains attached to my head - and three hours and 50 minutes longer.

David Beckham is, so I am reliably informed, a footballer. This is reassuring as suspicions were arising that he was merely a life-sized mannequin, a modern-day Ken to Posh's Barbie. So it was good to learn that this pair are not merely fashion fools who generously donate glimpses of their glamorous life for mass public consumption.

There was a time when footballers and hair meant Bobby Charlton, with his famous comb-over style adopted in a hopeless bid to camouflage baldness. This was a difficult trick for a footballer to pull off, because heated activity on a windy day would see the plastered strands of hair flying off to one side. This brought to mind a wig that almost got away on a passing gust.

To this day, men who persist with such an attempted cover-up are still said to be "doing a Bobby Charlton". Any modern man who tries to "do a Beckham" risks ending up with their head in a spin, so various are the styles adopted by their many-headed hero.

Do you think we will still be so enthralled by David Beckham's hair when the irreversible moulting begins - or when his dyed and pampered locks turn grey and lifeless? Perhaps then he will suffer the same fate as Prince Charles, endlessly photographed from above to expose the thinning pastures (the only time I ever feel sorry for the prince).

Beckham as cultural icon is quite a topic, not least because he is the most famous human brand in history - idolised around the world. At home he is something else, part idol and part fool, loved by some, mocked by others; a hero on the pitch and in the hair salon, and a cause of fun for assorted TV comedians, notably Alistair McGowan.

Over-familiarity breeds snorts of contempt from some quarters, and coos of admiration from others. But whatever your persuasion, it is difficult to escape the man and his hair, his popstar wife, his children, his possible move to Spain or the £1.5 million holiday home he has just bought in Bargemon, a formerly quiet village in Provence.

This obsession with the flashiest, most celebrated couple in Britain is surely unhealthy. It's certainly a puzzle to some of us. But maybe the Beckhams just act as a wishing valve, letting those who lead less glittered lives gawp from the muddy sidelines at the tackiest, wackiest and richest show in town. And where would newspapers be without the silly, headline-hogging pair?

Updated: 10:26 Thursday, May 22, 2003