Dyed in the woolly poll?

rainbow-french-braid

Yes, this is dye as in colour, and a poll, as defined in vet’nary circles (and POLitics too), means a head. My head to be specific, which has certainly been pretty woolly of late for all kinds of good reasons…
So, yeah it’s been so long since I had a natural hair colour (all over anyway) that it’s still a complete surprise to find out just how much grey hair I actually have when the high or lowlights, colour rinses and roots grow out long enough for some ‘proper’ colour to show through. This is because I don’t have one any more, ‘cos I’ve been at the dye pot since well before I could get married (with or without parental consent), vote, or (legally) have a real drink.

You’re looking at the picture aren’t you? It’s all right – you can do that and, yes, I’ve been most of those colours for at least a couple of washes, except perhaps for the greeny-turquoises which generally didn’t make it much past Hallowe’en. Blue was the one that I wanted above all, but, alas, never seemed to take too well for the nice value of bright blues that I craved most; but all shades of blonde, copper, red, burgundy and especially purple have all graced my scalp at various times during the past 40-odd years. I was never going to be one of those salt and pepper, or dandelion white-haired old ladies and was always looking half longingly at the blue, pink and lilac swatches in the salon dye brochures from the tender of twelve when I was first allowed out to the hair dressers on my own…

For the last three or four years purple’s been my favourite hue, which requires regular peroxide highlights to gain the necessary pukka shade of fuschia (courtesy of Messrs Revlon), but gradually, as I’ve been approaching the big 60, I’ve been flirting with a feisty fire engine red as well, and actually have an as yet unopened bottle of copper that’s beginning to tempt me more than a little. Women and their hair, huh? But it’s not just women of course – men have at least as fraught a time of it as the female of the species, although perhaps with them the colour bar’s a lot more circumscribed (unless they’re metalheads), particularly when their ‘dos’ are on the wane.
Age is, of course, a factor for everyone as hair changes as you get older and can’t get away with things so easily, not least because it’s probably not taking any more nonsense from a superannuated geek with a emotional age of 15 who’s addicted to ‘product’… But colour IS important even if you just want to stick with the youthful blonde, brunette or shade of ginger you once took for granted, because it’s YOURS. Hair colour makes a statement about you and, although hereditary plays its fickle part, for the most part your ‘natural’ hair colour generally is the right colour to go with your skintone, eyes and contrasting naughty bits. It’s a part of you after all and it stays with you all your life (well maybe not on your head, but you know what I mean 😉 ). Which is where colourists in hair salons are always sought after, because nothing says how healthy, sexy and confident you are like your crowning glory. It’s why every woman in the 1950s secretly wanted to be a platinum blonde, a pixie-cut brunette in the early ’60’s, or have curly chestnut tresses after a good dose of Robin (of Sherwood) Hood: Prince of Thieves. People may say they want a certain trendy style, but really, did a raven-haired tousled Farah cut ever work for anyone? No. Of course not!

So purple was my latest potion of choice but my hair’s pretty well behaved and I’ve always liked ringing the changes so, for the past 6 months, I’ve been mostly red with that copper lurking insouciantly at the back of the bathroom shelf, boding away.
Tomorrow is washing day and I think the copper’s coming out – I need a change now because my colour habit’s indelibly hooked into to my mood. Purple’s for when I’m dreaming and looking for far horizons. Red’s more to do with a marauding feeling, almost warior-like and, dare I say, looking for trouble… Shaking off the shackles anyway.
But just at this moment I’m starting to feel ‘deep’. I want to dig right down to my bedrock to find veins of courage and determination. I want to tap into the that mother-lode and do something that’s uniquely mine and not worry about anything or anyone else. It takes a time of loss to make you think about surveying your life and where you want it to run. Run, not amble along aimlessly, or worrying about what it’ll cost or who it’s going to affect…

So copper it is – I’m going mining for the assay of a lifetime in colour! 😀

 

2 thoughts on “Dyed in the woolly poll?

  1. You know Jan, although I am black, I have also experimented with hair colors too. I started with black, my natural color, then went to brown, blond, and even blue at one time. Lately I have just allowed my natural color which now is grey to rule the day 🙂 🙂

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    • I’m envious Joy ‘cos blue’s always eluded me as they only seem to do really dark shades and I want it cobalt or electric! lol I’m going to have to seriously look around I think – there must be a bright one somewhere these days 😀
      I unfortunately don’t take after my mum who’s still almost without a grey hair, but mine isn’t anywhere that would let me do a Morticia Addams so I guess I’ll be hitting the peroxide a bit longer so I can still achieve the rainbow colours I like best! 😛

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