|This is me.|
When God was sitting on his throne concocting my genetic makeup an angel must have distracted him because God seriously messed up on my hair! Since my senior year in college, I have been fighting gray hair. I was the ripe old age of twenty-one when my first gray hair appeared. I called my mother in a panic, sure I had some terrible disease that made you age too early, and she laughingly told me graying early was genetic in the women of our family.
Huh? Why had nobody mentioned this dark family secret before? Mom, cheerfully went on to inform me that though we grayed early we wrinkled late. Yay! Score one for the team. She was fairly right on the wrinkles and way too correct on the grays.
I was born a beach-babe blonde, but by the time I was nine, I had darkened to a true-blue brunette. By the age of twenty-five, thanks to my early grays and pricey salons, my hair color was somewhere between the blond I’d been born and the brunette I’d ended up as. Every time I dropped $125.00 in the salon, I comforted myself with the fact that at least I could cover up the gray hair.
By the time I reached thirty-eight my every eight week hair appointment visits had turned into every four week hair appointments, and I had to come to terms with the fact that my now $145.00 color was going to have to be part of my monthly personal budget. Let me add that my husband just loved this. Just joking. He hates the expenditure but luckily he’s not quite ready to see me gray either.
I’m now two months away from being forty and guess what? I cannot get my gray to stay covered! I called my hairdresser after my last visit to complain that the color she put on only stayed on for about two weeks. I expected for $145.00 that my grays could at least stay colored for four weeks. My hairdresser, bless her, was very sympathetic and brought me in for a free color re-do with a different more potent color. I left with high hopes that plummeted two weeks later when at my temples my persistent gray hairs peeked their pesky little heads back at me.
Back to the hairdresser I went for her to ‘analyze’ my gray. This is serious business. Turns out my gray is not gray at all. My hair is white, and white hair is the hardest, most resistant hair to color that there is. I am so lucky!
|The many shades of Julie!|
My hairdresser has one more color she wants to try on me and if that doesn’t work seems my only choice is to abandon the brunette I became and embrace the blonde I was apparently born to be because that will disguise the gray better.
Along the path of trying to figure out how to get my white hair to stay colored I’ve tried several at home colors because I am often hit with the absurd notion that I can do things better than the experts trained to do them. I’ve tried L’Oreal, Clairol and the newest John Frieda foam. No dice. These do not keep white hair covered, so if you too have white hair don’t bother.
I suppose I could embrace the white hair, but the main problem is I’m vain! And my white hair is only at my temples, and I’m just not ready to walk around with two-toned hair!
Do any of you have gray or white hair that is hard to color? What do you do about it?
Have a great day!
Julie Johnstone, The Marchioness of Mayhem