In the wake of my 32nd birthday, I feel like I'm having a bit of a premature mid life identity crisis. None of my clothes feel like they're interesting or different, but when I try on things that are beyond my normal boundaries of "style", they don't fit right or look right. I've had the worst time getting dressed in the mornings because nothing feels like it's really "me" anymore.
So now I'm thinking, maybe it's not the clothes...maybe I can work on the accessories. I'm okay on the earrings and rings for the most part, so I've started to look at necklaces. And then on Friday, while waiting for my hair appointment (the short hair demands to be cut every 6 weeks), it occurred to me...color the hair.
This isn't a totally foreign concept to me. Over the years, my hair stylists have often urged me to color my hair. I've always declined. I like the color of my hair, and I like being able to say that it's my natural color. Two months ago, however, I caved. My current hair stylist, who I love and is the awesome, convinced me to go red. Like funky, she mixed 3 different shades together and we'll see what comes out, red. People, my hair was MAGENTA. At least when she was putting the dye on, it was magenta. It ended up being more of a dark red, that wasn't all together bad, but it wasn't totally me. The other problem was that it reminded me of the hair color of this woman who used to shop at the feed store I worked at eons ago and who would come in and return things she had obviously used on her dog (like leashes and collars), and would then ask to use our phone so she could order cheese blintzes to pick up on her way home. I didn't like that woman very much, and I definitely didn't want to have her hair (which is also why I took absolutely no photos of myself while my hair was in this state, and how relieved am I that it has now totally faded?)
But while I was sitting in the little salon on Friday afternoon, it occurred to me that maybe I didn't have to color EVERY SINGLE hair on my head. Maybe I could just color some of them. Maybe some black streaks? Maybe some darker red streaks? When I mentioned this epiphany to my stylist, she stopped snipping and her eyes got wide, and she said, "That would be SICK!" And as far as I know, that means totally AWESOME.
I am SO looking forward to my next haircut.