Throughout the 2000s, the music charts were rife with references to Rogaine. Jay-Z invoked the hair-restoration drug as a synonym for staying power. Weezer described it, begrudgingly, as a means of rejuvenation. Ingrid Michaelson, in a song about accepting one’s flaws, pledged to buy the drug for her partner when he inevitably lost his hair.

Now, as the Millennials who grew up on this music are fast approaching their Rogaine era, the hair-loss industry is eager to receive them—particularly the many women coming around to the idea that they might want to buy Rogaine for themselves too. Over roughly the past decade, hair-loss treatments aimed at women have broken into mainstream consumer culture, alerting women simultaneously to the possibility of balding and the potential to fix it.

Women have always been the target audience for shampoos, hair masks, hot-oil treatments, and so on. But those products aim to improve the appearance of existing hair, not grow more of it. Products specifically for hair loss have historically targeted male users. When Rogaine launched in 1988, it was available only for men. (The women’s version came three years later.)