In college I had a perm (hey, I liked it, so suck it) and after that it's been kind of wavy. Not straight or curly. Sometimes I've had bangs, but my husband hates bangs. The only thing I particularly liked about it was the color, blond. I've always liked being a blond, probably because I connected it with those beautiful Disney princesses like Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. Blond=better is how petty I've been my whole life.
I do not have brown hair. At least, my self-image does not contain a person with brown hair. My personality doesn't go with brown hair. I am not a person with brown hair.
Or am I?
When you start becoming unsure of your own hair color, life becomes unnerving. Especially in the year you turn 30. So last week, reminiscing about a picture I saw in a book of a similarly neither-here-nor-there hair-colored woman, I decided to dye my hair. Platinum blond.
When I picked up a box of hair dye, my daughter got very upset. She told me to leave my hair alone and not to make it look "like an old lady". I was a bit taken aback. I didn't realize a 3 year old would care about such things. I decided to just dye it when she wasn't home and see if she'd even notice the change. Note to self: next time, take her advice.
This was actually not my first stab at this hair color. The first time was two years ago, when my husband was on a business trip in Germany. I didn't tell him I was doing it, because I figured I had enough time to go get it fixed before he got back and he'd be none the wiser. It ended up not being much of a change, my hair just looked a little lighter. This time I went for it, and the results were...not pretty.
The first pass made me look like a tiger. No joke. There were great big places where I'd missed (have you ever tried dyeing your hair without someone helping you?) and the roots were a noticeably different color. Bad bad bad. And nothing scissors could even save (I considered it). The next day I promised my husband beer in exchange for helping me fix it, which he did. And now? Still bad, but at least uniformly so?
It's MUCH brighter in person than in this picture. And of course, all this was happening just before my Momiform MAKEover post was due. Hence what prompted the change in the first place. But I hadn't banked on the change going so terribly wrong. Suddenly, these new clothes I was pumped about rocking made no difference to me. I wanted to pull out of the tour. I wanted to never leave the house. I almost didn't order pizza delivery one night because I felt like it looked that bad (for the record, I did order pizza, and the delivery guy had a mullet, and I laughed at myself for feeling so foolish).
On the advice of a friend and Mr. Google, I've ordered some purple toning shampoo and it should be here this week. Supposedly, the purple cancels out the brassy tones and will result in a more ashy/white-blond look, which is what I want. In the last week and a half I've basically been wearing my hair up and avoiding mirrors. I'm really super frustrated, because I feel like I've spent the last 3 1/2 years of mom life rebuilding my self-image and confidence (oh, you didn't know? becoming a mom screws with your identity). With one little box of hair dye it all went off the rails.
So cheer me up! Have you ever had a hair disaster? How did you recover? I know this is only temporary, but I think it's safe to say I'll be leaving the dye to professionals from now on.