I spent the morning getting my hair did, as the kid's say. I'm new to this whole "coloring" BS and still feel a little nervous about messing with a good thing. My hair is a big source of vanity and years of people warning me not to touch the color has kept me strictly au natural. But since I'm no longer a spring chicken (as evidenced by the white hairs - plural - my husband gleefully plucks from my head), giving Mother Nature a boost didn't sound so bad. The first time I braved it the good folks at Aveda went easy on me - demi-permanent so the color would gradually fade, a gentle boost to the red. And I liked it. It gave my eyes a nice little pop, callbacks started coming in, husband said it was like getting a hotter wife - all pluses in my book. (Except for that last one. Remind me to sucker punch him for that little number when he gets home.) Today I went back in for a touch up and this time the gloves were off. No more namby-pamby, wash-out-in-6-weeks, natural-with-a-kick booshit for this girl! Today we went fierce.
I'm not entirely sure how it happened. Scratch that, I know exactly how it happened. All it took was the gorgeous head stylist - the one with the red/violet hair and incredibly milky skin - telling me how much better I could look and I was in. There's something so seductive about having someone who is very much cooler than you take charge of your "look". It's how people get railroaded into spray-on tans or metallic jumpsuits, by having really fantastic people speak authoritatively about something you know little about. Inevitably I find it hard to disagree because deep down it's still 1983 and I'm sporting legwarmers six months after everyone else has stopped wearing them. Tell me you can make me cooler/prettier/calmer and I'll say yes in spades.
So I said yes. In spades.
Out went the strawberry blond, in went the red. Perhaps that should be in caps because Stylista turned the dial to 11, peeps. I am Belle Watling. I am the Red Roof Inn. Husband says it looks good but he is not to be trusted. If he tells the truth he risks his wife locking herself in the only bathroom and not coming out until the wells run dry. (I hear if you wash it a lot...) Honestly I can't tell if it's off the charts or if I'm just not used to something so "vibrant". The baby didn't seem to be thrown so that's a plus. He freaks when daddy puts on his old glasses - the kid notices change. It's just a little disappointing. Just once I'd like to have that InStyle moment, the one where you look in the mirror and think, Holy Shit. But in a good way.
Someday my Red Carpet Fairy will come...