Younger people are flocking to salons begging stylists to dye their hair silver. I spent 20 years paying stylists to cover my gray with blonde highlights. Now, gray is the new blonde. Who knew?
Last February I decided enough was enough. It was time to go au naturel. I wanted the wisdom and beauty of my years on earth to frame my face.
But the process of getting there is more like the tribulations of Job than the drama of Dorian Grey, as I wrote about in my last post on this topic. I was inspired by one virtual friend’s haircut that I saw on the Facebook group, “Gray and Proud,” and shared a picture with my stylist. Presto change – the style was mine. Much shorter, but still with lots of the old color.
As the months wore on, it felt like it was taking forever. In a fit of pique, I had my stylist cut off as much of the old color as possible without making me bald. We are talking super short.
It was shocking. And liberating. And low maintenance. No more hours spent looking like a baked potato with foils all over my head as chemicals coated my hair shafts. Easy on the budget, too.
I’ve had help from others on the same journey through social media. Search on “going gray,” and you’ll get thousands of hits. There are virtual support groups aplenty. People share their dilemmas, their haircuts, their feelings of being set free. As the gray hairs mount, so does the pride, at least in most cases. Some people report being harangued by friends – or total strangers – about how they should try to hide their age by resorting to dye. Poppycock!
My last cut – the radical one – took things a giant leap further. My pinkie finger is longer than my hair. I’ve had so many compliments I may keep it this way. Now, people can really see my face. They aren’t focusing on the gray, apparently, but instead they are seeing more of the real me. It’s sweet and a bit surprising, but, hey, I’ll take it.