I really admire gray hair on humans, with special mention of the salt-and-pepper look. I have many friends who sport this chic-ness, as I hope someday to do, too. Only my gray chic is coming from a bottle.
I just returned from my regularly scheduled hair appointment, when I have the “mousy” brown washed right out of it, replaced with a special auburn-dark brown blend … that looks most natural, I must confess. Naturally, my gray strands are covered. And each time I’m asked, “So, what are we doing today?” I mention, “I’d like to go gray.” At this point, I am convinced my hairdresser thinks I’m kidding … she never responds, either way.
My favorite response to my gray hair affinity comes from a high school friend. Her hair has already gone gray – and it’s beautiful to. When I mention this and confess, “If my gray hair would look as stunning as yours, I’d stop coloring it,” she deadpans, “I don’t believe you.” Touché.
So why don’t I go gray? Shame of boomer status? Afraid of job discrimination? Well, it has nothing to do with any of that, really –or my hair- and everything to do with my self-esteem.
I’m afraid I can’t pull it off.
And although I was Gray before I was Muniz, I still can’t shake my low opinion of my looks.
So my gray hair envy will have to wait until another day. And hair appointment.
Photo credit: permanently scatterbrained
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