I've heard that blondes have more fun. But I just don't buy it.
I have naturally curly, reddish-brown hair. Over the past few years, my magician of a hairdresser, Marty, has convinced me that a few blonde highlights would look good with my freckles and blue eyes. She was right, and I enjoyed a few blonde moments in the sun.
This summer, the stress of sunshine and chlorine took their toll, and I awoke to find -- to my horror -- that I was much more blonde than brunette. I felt the need to take immediate and invasive action to rectify my perilous condition.
I write this with no ill will toward blondes. I know several of you and you are lovely, warm people. I just don't belong.
I belong over in that smart-mouthed, no-nonesense group of brunettes standing in the corner plotting who is going to take control of the radio and play some decent music during this party.
Here's where the trouble began.
First it started with a cruise down the hair color aisle at Wal-Mart. I picked my color.
Next it was a furtive trip to the store to purchase said color. I thought about calling Marty and opted against it. This is something a smart-mouth, no-nonesense brunette should handle on her own. Right?
I called the hubby, informed him of my intentions and started the dying process. I went with a nice mahogany brown color. I applied liberally and pulled a towel over my head. I've read that the warmth from your head can help smooth the coloring process.
After I pulled off the towel and started rinsing, I thought to myself, "Self, this color is rinsing awfully red."
I washed and rinsed twice, still the waters ran red.
I stood up, pulled the towel off and my worst fears were confirmed....
My hair. was. purple.
Right about then, the hubby called to see how it went. "Well... how do you feel about redheads," I asked him. "Well I love them, you know that!" he replied.
"Oh good," I said, "Because my hair is purple."
I hung up while he was still laughing.
I called Marty who offered an immediate intervention. Her advice was to let it wash out for a while ... like a month or two.
Shit.
I applied hair treatment, dried and curled it. It is most certainly purple. I would fit right in at a Rob Zombie concert.
I walked out of the bathroom and my son met me in the hall.
"Oh mommy! I love your hair! Can we make my hair green?"
Oh good God.
5 comments:
Michelle,
We need to see a pic of the new "do". Your writing style kills me in a good way, I always walk away with a smile. The last time I saw you, you were very blonde.
Jenny S. from Union
I tried to load a picture, but alas, it failed. Blogger is not the best for photos. I'll try again later.
Give Tony a squeeze from me!
Next time, consult your hair color savvy sister. I have been every color under the sun - including green (bad blonde mix up). I can tell you how to get that perfect orange glow around your head when you are going for red or that lovely blue/black hair. I have mastered them all!
Send the pic my way and I'll be more than happy to post it at brokeni.com.
If all the people making fun of your hair start getting you down, just remember these brave words a wise man once said:
I never meant to cause you any sorrow.
I never meant to cause you any pain.
I only wanted to one time see you laughing
I only wanted to see you laughing in the purple rain.
Don't feel bad, I've been in your situation before. I've been red, purple and with a bad highlight job, my natural color and green-tinted stripes that made me look like a skunk! Although after each dye job, I've sworn off of hair color of all sorts, I always torture myself and go back while telling myself that it will be better this time. I've learned that the older you get and the more stress that comes into your life, the more color you need to hide all of the grays that pop up unexpectedly. Hang in there and just remember, it can always be fixed even if you have to look like Demi Moore in G.I. Jane.
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