My sister and I share a lot of physical characteristics, but not our coloring. I turn a toasty brown in the sun, she resembles a boiled lobster. I have thick dark hair, hers is a baby-fine light brown that gets sun bleached to a golden hue at the slightest provocation.
Of late, since we have become aware of the harm of exposure to the sun, the golden streaks have been enjoying some slight chemical assistance. And so it was that a home highlighting kit was being applied to her by my less-than-adept hands one evening, with a significant amount left over. And the madcap idea hatched to try a little on my hair.
Since we started with her, her waiting time expired first and she went to wash it out, while I still had about 15 minutes to go. The next thing I heard after the shower started was a shriek, and then she came gallumphing down the hall, awkwardly covered and trailing soap suds, screaming at me to get in the shower now and wash off the stuff.
Too late. I ended up with broad bright orange streaks in my otherwise dark brown (and grey) hair. At 10 p.m. on a Sunday evening.
My sister had to get in the car and go to a 24-hour store to buy a shade of brown that more or less matched my own hair, because there was no way that I was going to work that way. (Her own was a little ... intense, but not too bad.)
A by-product of the brown hair color is that it covered my grey strands as well as the orange streaks. The second application of brown is starting to grow out and wash away, with the orangey streaks now somewhat muted. I might not need a third application of brown.
But suddenly seeing the multitude of silver threads was rather a shock. They had originally appeared gradually, one by one, giving me time to get used to them. Now I had been without them for a few months, and they all came back at once.
I don't think I'll be covering them up again. It is good for my humility to see them, and they tend to ground me in reality. Then again I reserve the right to change my mind should men my own age start "Ma'am"-ing me.
Comments (2)
You see, alas, I was not born with a silver tongue. My sister has new and old vices abounding, *duck..hide*
Some as innocent as cricket, others all consuming as blogging.*applying to enter the witness protection program*
As for me, I have no normal vices, but then who wants to be normal? My vice is the regular change in hair, or at least that is how it used to be.
I changed it as often as I got paid, that being every 30 days; it was fun and I miss it. As for gray hairs, I intend not to find out whether I have any anytime soon, so chemical hair therapy here I am. I have no problem supporting the industry with money in exchange for a little denial. So if it is orange, or yellow or brown (or maybe I’ll try purple for next Halloween), lets have some fun, after all it is only hair and it can almost always grow back.
Posted by Nini | February 8, 2005 7:36 AM
Posted on February 8, 2005 07:36
You can do whatever you want with your money. Next time just leave my hair out of it. ;-)
Posted by Sivani | February 8, 2005 12:03 PM
Posted on February 8, 2005 12:03