Going, going, blonde ...

I was born blonde.  Not a towhead, but a sort of all-American kind of blonde whose hair was full of highlights during the way too short Vermont summers. Aside from one bleaching mishap in my rock singer days, I kept to my natural color until I was 27 – that’s when I started to have The Red Vision.  I think it began after watching the movie Private Benjamin, in which, toward the end of the film, Goldie Hawn goes strawberry.  While not inspired to enlist, I was ready to join the Red Brigade.Red worked – really well – for years.   I have very pale skin with neutral undertones and my eyes are blue.  Everybody thought I was a natural redhead (although there was that L'Oreal Feria incident in grad school - suffice it to say that it's a good thing I had my Arabic class in the morning, because I had to go to class with a scarf on my head).A few years ago, pushing 25 years of red headedness, I began to have The Platinum Vision.  I was  first inspired by the singer Emmylou Harris and from seeing anyone who had the good fortune and peachy complexion to look smashing with prematurely white hair.  Then, I saw The Devil Wears Prada starring Meryl Streep as the icy Miranda - wow.  I tried on wigs to get a feel for how I’d look, and even bought a platinum bob (for sale - message me).When I proposed changing my hair color, most of the friends I told were against it.  Some were downright hostile and forbade me to do such a thing.  This, of course, stirred the teenager in me to do it without hesitation.  The adult in me was resolute in any case and I made the appointment.People told me that they admired my bold move and that I looked years younger (not why I did it, but thanks).   Most surprising was that the unworn clothes in my closet suddenly made sense – it seemed I had been shopping for the platinum me all along.Changing my hair has changed everything.  Now, when I tell people that I’m a former rock singer, they actually believe me.   Whatever hair I wake up with works – I have my Gwen Stefani days, my Brienne of Tarth days and my Andy Warhol days.  It is so much easier to get dressed now, and the over-used term “edgy” kind of applies to me.  My lipstick options increased to include a range of pinks that weren't flattering to me as a redhead.I’m telling you this story, not for the fun of it, but so that you’ll consider embracing a dreamed of, perhaps drastic change in your look.  It could cause an electrifying jolt to your otherwise primitive way of seeing yourself.  Good luck and send pictures.