Whatever happened to blonde, brunette, and redhead? Last week we spent forty-five minutes at Target trying to find the right color because she forgot the damn box code. All I could remember was a picture of some smiling broad on the box, and while I was happy to keep looking, it turns out I picked the wrong one. Somehow, that turned out to be my fault.
I swear, going shopping for haircolor is worse than going to the paint store. Each of the eight major beauty product manufacturers have thirty-seven colors, five shades, nine sheens, and seven different highlights. You can choose from Colorsilk, Luminista, Nutrisse, Nice ‘n Easy. If you do the math on this, there must be millions of possibilities.
In any event, this is nothing new. Women have been doing it for centuries, going all the way back to the Egyptians and Romans. They’ve tried lime, ash, copper, iron, chamomile, saffron, tree bark, chalk, even lead (great idea there), all so they could look different. I don’t get it. Because when you get right down to it, ladies, all we have to do is flip you over to see the truth.
P.S. The Nordic Warrior Queen suggested the other day that I should color out the gray in my hair. You can imagine my response.
In other words, read the box…
Don’t color the gray. That’s bullshit.
I seem to recall that my bio-father had a bunch of gray hair the last time I saw him (about 15 or so years ago, the sonofabitch), and in the back of my head I’ve been waiting for my gray to set in ever since. But here I am, a robust 38, and I have nary a gray to report. Cath thought she saw one a short while ago, but I think it was just blond.
Do you watch Mad Men? If so, I trust you’ll agree with me that Roger Sterling > Don Draper. The silver/gray is classy. Older dudes (I’m sorry, Kip, but at 10 years my senior, you indeed fall in that category) look better with a little salt-and-pepper.
So, let it go. And be thankful you got your mom’s hair instead of your dad’s.