Today I dyed my hair.
As I drove to my salon this morning, I second-guessed my decision to go back to my preferred non-natural colour. It would have been brave, and kind of classy, to embrace my real hair. Some of my friends have resolved to grow out their roots, and I admire their commitment to authenticity. I could have followed their lead, and now that I’d ditched the wig, used this as an opportunity to forego the expensive salons and allow gray into my life. A fresh start, with the real me.
It struck me as rather unfair that my hair has been such an issue. First I looked like grandpa, and then I looked I had my hair painted on by one of the talented artists at the Mattel corporation in 1958. My new stylist smiled down at me reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said, ‘It will lighten up’.
I think she was talking about my hair, but it’s possible she may have been talking about life. So in the spirit of lightening & brightening, and with nothing on my head but a pair of sunglasses, the new real me into my Big Jim Sports Camper, and sped away.