Feb 14, 2005

My Hairdresser, My Extortionist. First in a Series

Five weeks ago, as my hairdresser poured my customized mix of dark brown and auburn over my hair, she murmured, "Next time I'd like to do some highlights." Getting into the spirit I said, "I guess there's a certain point where dark hair doesn't look that great on women?" "It just needs a little brightening," she clarified ominously. This will probably be $60 over the $45 I pay every five weeks for the color alone, the cut itself being $40. "Okay!" I said in a cheery, dimwitted way.

A few days later, though, as I looked at my 46-year-old face in the mirror, the truth came to me in an epiphany. I am a slave to my hairdresser. "This will not stand," I declared to myself. "I do not exist to pay for my hairdresser's swimming pool maintenance." That remark about my needing highlights was the tipping point. Coloring my hair is no longer worth it. Am I part of a trend?

So. I'm doing it. I'm going gray. I haven't seen my hair color in five years, so this could be a revelation. So stay tuned, Internet.


John said...

How did people ever manage to go grey before there was an internet to tell them how to do it?

RighteousBiche said...

Har! Good one John!

I'm ten years younger but already very gray. Once I tried to go gray. My husband even said, "It's very alluring." A couple of months later, he said, "When are you going to do something about the big gray streak?"
"You said it was 'alluring!'"
"I didn't mean it. Did you think I did?"
"Well, um, yeah. I did. Just like the time, when we first started dating and you wrote to me how you couldn't live without me! Why do you think I've been suffering with this big fricking gray streak right on top of my forehead?" Jerk! Nice jerk. But still a jerk!