Grey Area

 

I have this whole hate-hate-relationship with my hair.  I could write endlessly about its stubbornness, its lack of respect, and its complete disregard for my feelings, but I won’t. 

You’re welcome.

(I will say, FYI, that the only way I have a “good hair day” is putting hot rollers into my curly hair.  I have to curl my curls to be able to wear my hair down without looking like I stuck my finger in a light socket or slept in a wind tunnel, so that should tell you a bit about the capricious nature of my mop.)

I have been coloring my hair forever, first to go from black—serious black-black, not just dark brown—to red, but more recently to hide the rampant glitter that is covering my head at an alarming rate. 

You can imagine my surprise when this whole ‘granny-hair’ trend popped up.  People deliberately dying their hair grey? What??

Bye –bye bubble-gum pink and violet, apparently being a Silver Fox in your 20s and 30s is the thing.  If Nicole Richie and Lady Gaga are down with it, you know it’s cool, right?

Now I am hardly a fashionista, 99% of my wardrobe is either from thrift stores or friends, but this is a trend I could really get on board with.

 First, I would be fashionable for the first time since 1988 when I got a pair of LA Gear high tops with pink and green laces. 

Second, I would be forever free from the endless cycle of every-8-week-root-touch-ups.

Kind of a win, right? 

I won’t do it, though.  As much as I would like to win at least one battle with my mane, “Sprinkle grey at me, you bitch?  Now you’re all grey, take that!” (Yes, I am aware I have issues; no, it doesn’t bother me)

The thing is, for some reason, I still associate grey hair with aging, and I am not old, damn it!  I’m not even 40 yet, I can’t have a headful of grey hair. (‘Not 40’ = hanging off the precipice of my 30’s by my fingernails, frantically scrabbling at the edge, hoping to not drop off.  But NOT 40!!)

It’s not that I am vain; frankly, dressing like a hobo sorta takes that out of one.  I just can’t do it, though.  I associate grey hair with turkey neck (mine is getting there), crow’s feet (check), and age spots (none yet, hallelujah!).  I’m not really sure why it’s important to me at this stage in my life to cling to the last few vestiges of youth, it’s not like I have anyone to impress, but I can honestly say that going completely feels like the end of the line to me.

I suppose I should be above such petty concerns; inner beauty, blah, blah…But I am just not ready to throw in the towel and go grey.

This is a black and white (red) issue to me, and in this respect, there is no grey area.