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.