IT is always flattering to the ego if one could make heads turn upon entering a room. And the reasons for causing people to swirl around instantly can be wide-ranging from merely having a super-magnetic presence or for donning a traffic stopping outfit.

But recently Thai pathologist Dr Pornthip Rojanasunand grabbed attention by her testimony in the coroner’s court here that political aide Teoh Beng Hock might not have committed suicide. It was possibly murder, she said.

Speaking as an expert witness for the Selangor government in the on-going inquest into Teoh’s death, the famed Dr Pornthip’s statement was enough in itself to create shock waves all around as, among other things, she said that the deceased’s injuries showed that he may have been strangled.

Oddly enough, what had had many all agog was also how she looked and dressed.

The good doctor’s hair was teased with streaks of amber, gold and chestnut and who knows how many other hues on the colour chart.

I was mighty perturbed that the world, obviously our world, was “shaken” because her appearance was not in line with perhaps the commonly “accepted” look of a doctor, whatever that may be.

In one of the dailies, it was reported that a lawyer had remarked that Dr Pornthip looked “strange, with her eccentric clothing and make-up”.

Another statement I found more dismaying was this: “though she looks like it, Dr Pornthip is not a person of the night.”

Of course, the writer wanted to work towards the fact that having performed over 10,000 autopsies, she is rather a person of the pre-dawn when it was always dark, sawing and slicing through corpses.

But what was the first part of the paragraph all about? To me, it means that even some of our learned folks and whom we therefore deem as far from insular are unfortunately unable to detach themselves from pigeon-holing other people.

That Dr Pornthip, with 27 years of experience under her belt, was the first to almost single-handedly introduce DNA testing in her homeland seemed to pale in comparison to the fiery shades of her fringe.

Details like the fact that her choice of apparel included stuff that “no one, not even rebellious kids, is wearing” seem to warrant more column space.

While it could be seen as merely an attempt to paint a bit of colour into the Pornthip story, the stereotyping here was, alas, also apparent.

Much as I would want to think otherwise, there is no doubt that there are those who judge others by how they look. And they can’t quite handle it if some people don’t or won’t conform to how they or their professions are perceived to dress.

Could these blinkered ones comprehend that many of us regard the wide spectrum of hair shades as nothing more than just a fad or whim to brighten our day just like how one would usually pack in some vibrant togs for a beach holiday?

Could they look at the tints in our tresses as not being an indication of some shady streaks in our character?

Being one who relishes not staying to type, you can guess that I had long ago engaged a colourist to slap on tinges of burgundy, hazel and vermillion, whatever tickled my fancy, to my crowning glory. It doesn’t mean that I won’t tone things down when the time is right, though.

As for attire, I had donned pedal pushers at college when the norm called for plain pants. And I had slipped on whatever’s the rage mostly, swinging from dreadful scalloped skirts of the late ‘70s to starchy linen jackets of the ‘80s that brought on an itch, I recall.

But fashion felony or no, I did have a barrel of fun.

But because of my profession, I believe I was luckier than most who love a touch of kinkiness in their outfits.

Somehow, the creative nature of the writing world provides a little reprieve from this general sad state of ‘labeling’.

So, in this craft, delightfully enough, you will find journos who dress like something the cat dragged in to ones who fit out with Liberace-like flamboyance. Dowdy dames work hand in hand with fashion plates.

With this, my heart really goes out to the Dr Pornthips of the world who get sized up because they don’t walk around in sombre duds with stethoscopes round their necks, for crying out loud.

While some occasions do call for certain dress codes or etiquette to be preserved, like how lawyers are to be decently-clad in black in court, nurses in white while on duty or soldiers in army fatiques out in the field, I reckon some people should just lighten up (literally too if they wish), step out of the tunnel and enjoy some sun.

Otherwise, to me, they might be the ones who need an autopsy of sorts on their mindset and attitude...