The Root of the Problem
I did NOT dye my hair last night... and that feels like an accomplishment.
I may be on the serial hair dyeing spectrum, so I'm trying to explore the possibility of life less devoted to chemicals. No, I'm not ready to embrace the natural look, (I don't want to know how grey I truly am) but it seems like putting less chemicals on my hair (and by extension sending them out into the world) could be a good thing. I may have an unrealistic standard for grey roots so am trying to learn to tolerate a little less hair perfect. I'm pretty sure no one else knows or care is I have an eighth of an inch of roots. Not to mention that cutting back on my every three weeks hair dyeing habit will save me a little time and money.
It won't save me that much time and money, as I am a DIY hair colorist. I don't think I've had my hair professionally dyed for over ten years. And although I am pretty cheap, the main reason I color my own hair is I just can't (or won't) make the time to go to a hair salon. I can barely make it to Cost Cutters or Fantastic Sam's three times a year to get my split-ends cut off.
In addition to time management, another barrier to seeing a hair professional is the possibility that I'll have to make small talk. In many ways I am an extrovert, but usually not when it comes to random conversations.
I suppose if I had a regular hair stylist, I wouldn't have to worry about random conversations. I actually did have a regular hair stylist (my one and only as an adult, I think) back in the late 90's when I had super short hair. When you have short hair it's much less forgiving so you have to get your butt regularly in for a haircut. Back then I was lucky enough to find Ed, a young man at JCPenny's in Rosedale. Ed was totally low-key: friendly but not too talkative. When Ed left I just couldn't make the effort to find a new stylist.
Like many things in life, I learned my attitude toward hair dye from my mom. My mom always had her hair freshly dyed. So I learned to disdain my grey hair and roots. While I know many people who look lovely with grey hair, I'm just not into aging gracefully. Although my mom was impeccably groomed on all fronts. She always wore a girdle, and I'm just not prepared to go there.
I also have a rather bold and aggressive approach to hair dye. I'm a child of the 80's, too, so while I was never cool enough to be totally into New Wave, I think I may be of the first generation to have easily accessible hair dye. I admit I'm a little judgmental of people who are cautious about dyeing their hair. It's just hair people. It will grow out. Just slap that goo on, wash it out, and go. (And okay, clean up all the spills that make it looks like a murder occurred in your bathroom).
It would take way too long to recount my hair color history (yes it did include blonde) but now I've settled on a rather conservative red. I do feel like I'm in a bit of a rut, but read is just so easy (although I've heard it does fade fast). This is not a choice without costs. I've spent hours of my life that I can never get back ruing how purplish red hair (burgundy) is now in just after I've decided to try and go a lighter coppery red. I do always think it's kind of funny and odd when people refer to me as a redhead, though. I never think of myself as a redhead, as that implies a natural attribute.
While my mom taught me to dye my hair frequently, she would NOT approve of my at-home effort. My mom religiously went to the local hair salon in Fall Creek. Or the hair saloon, as my dad always called it, which always pissed my mom off. Not sure if he called it "saloon" on purpose of if that was a genuine mistake, but either way I'm pretty sure he was please he annoyed her.
Anyhoo, I'll see if I can make it three weeks before dyeing my hair. It's winter, so I can hide my roots by wearing a hat. And I'm just shooting to postpone the inevitable by a few days. Small steps, small steps.
I may be on the serial hair dyeing spectrum, so I'm trying to explore the possibility of life less devoted to chemicals. No, I'm not ready to embrace the natural look, (I don't want to know how grey I truly am) but it seems like putting less chemicals on my hair (and by extension sending them out into the world) could be a good thing. I may have an unrealistic standard for grey roots so am trying to learn to tolerate a little less hair perfect. I'm pretty sure no one else knows or care is I have an eighth of an inch of roots. Not to mention that cutting back on my every three weeks hair dyeing habit will save me a little time and money.
It won't save me that much time and money, as I am a DIY hair colorist. I don't think I've had my hair professionally dyed for over ten years. And although I am pretty cheap, the main reason I color my own hair is I just can't (or won't) make the time to go to a hair salon. I can barely make it to Cost Cutters or Fantastic Sam's three times a year to get my split-ends cut off.
In addition to time management, another barrier to seeing a hair professional is the possibility that I'll have to make small talk. In many ways I am an extrovert, but usually not when it comes to random conversations.
I suppose if I had a regular hair stylist, I wouldn't have to worry about random conversations. I actually did have a regular hair stylist (my one and only as an adult, I think) back in the late 90's when I had super short hair. When you have short hair it's much less forgiving so you have to get your butt regularly in for a haircut. Back then I was lucky enough to find Ed, a young man at JCPenny's in Rosedale. Ed was totally low-key: friendly but not too talkative. When Ed left I just couldn't make the effort to find a new stylist.
Like many things in life, I learned my attitude toward hair dye from my mom. My mom always had her hair freshly dyed. So I learned to disdain my grey hair and roots. While I know many people who look lovely with grey hair, I'm just not into aging gracefully. Although my mom was impeccably groomed on all fronts. She always wore a girdle, and I'm just not prepared to go there.
I also have a rather bold and aggressive approach to hair dye. I'm a child of the 80's, too, so while I was never cool enough to be totally into New Wave, I think I may be of the first generation to have easily accessible hair dye. I admit I'm a little judgmental of people who are cautious about dyeing their hair. It's just hair people. It will grow out. Just slap that goo on, wash it out, and go. (And okay, clean up all the spills that make it looks like a murder occurred in your bathroom).
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| YES, I was blonde and I was drinking white wine |
While my mom taught me to dye my hair frequently, she would NOT approve of my at-home effort. My mom religiously went to the local hair salon in Fall Creek. Or the hair saloon, as my dad always called it, which always pissed my mom off. Not sure if he called it "saloon" on purpose of if that was a genuine mistake, but either way I'm pretty sure he was please he annoyed her.
Anyhoo, I'll see if I can make it three weeks before dyeing my hair. It's winter, so I can hide my roots by wearing a hat. And I'm just shooting to postpone the inevitable by a few days. Small steps, small steps.
Well I would hate to be the one trying to make a living cutting my hair. I got it cut last spring and think I can make it to summer. If I was to dye my hair I would be that old fart with the blue hair. Our grandpa let his hair go white very young. So my dad had told me. Grandpa didn't like his black hair. With his hair gray he looked more white... Some say there was a teepee in our back ground.
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