Much of my maternity leave is unpaid. Therefore I’ve been cutting back on the bimonthly salon trips in an attempt to save money. My brilliant idea? Going back to my old practice of coloring my own hair.
Yeah. Brilliant. The next brilliant idea I had was to remember that the brand I used to use had stopped coloring my grays, and choosing another brand.
The results were darker than I expected, but that was fine. What was less fine was when the four of us (Mr. Sandwich, Baguette, Wicket, and I) were out for our evening walk, and Mr. Sandwich said, “I don’t think your hair came out the way you wanted. It’s a bunch of different colors.”
Sure enough, the back of my head was sporting stripes–horizontal stripes. My hair went from dark brown to auburn to purple (purple!) to dark brown. Two-tone I could have lived with: I’d have described it as “rocker girl” and embraced it (although I’m really not a rocker girl, but that’s no reason I can’t have a little fun with my hair). But four-tone? Not so much.
Fortunately, my usual stylist had an opening, and she was able to layer more color over the mess I’d made, and now I have a color that I describe as “Black Cherry.” Trust me, it’s a vast improvement over Neopolitan.
Oh, I can relate to this! I used to think I was doing a splendid job with my home coloring kits after Aidan was born, then I received a gift of a professional coloring. The colorist was oh-so-diplomatic, but she could see the multi-layered colors in back that I could never see. Ever since then, I’ve been paying the professionals to do it for me. It’s a huge extravagance, but I figure it’s way cheaper than all the therapy I’d need if I let it go gray now.
Last year I thought about going gray. Then I decided that if I did, it would look better short–and I’m not ready to go short. After that I decided to think about it again when I’m 50. I figure I’m still a long way from Dyan Cannon territory.