My hair is like the bicycle of the color wheel.  Everybody’s had a ride.  (No?  Doesn’t work here?)  Anyways…  I took a hiatus from the old hair color world for probably close to 3 years and actually really loved my natural color for the first time since I was maybe, oh, 7.  But after discovering a few grays and feeling a little mousy as of late, I decided to jump back in the pool.  But before I reveal the results of my recent endeavor- join me on a walk down memory lane, won’t you?

Age 15:  Permanently died my hair for the first time ever.  Chose to forgo the “cap” in the highlight kit and just go for “giggly, fun-loving full-blown blonde”.  Results?
Rusty nail orange.  Terrified mother.  Confused father.  Also approximately around the time I started really getting into the whole “punk” thing.  Coincidence?

Age 17:  After another round with blonde, I decided it was time to embrace the redhead in me.  Something about a bright red sounded so exciting and exotic. Except my head ended up looking like a stop sign.  I was told by one of the owners where I worked, “Um… this is a family establishment.”  Apparently not a fan of traffic signs.

Age 18:  Decided to dance another round with red, this time of the auburn persuasion.  I bought a discount box of color at Gabriel Brothers (there’s your first clue this is ending badly) and promptly went home to apply and unveil my new fall look.   Apparently my new fall look was koolaid pink, and I’ve never slapped a baseball hat on my head and got to the grocery store so fast in my life.  The good news is when you go to the store after 11pm you’re not the only one there who makes questionable choices.

Age 20:  Broke out the old highlighting kit one too many times and literally melted pieces of my hair off.  MEL. TED.  Panic-stricken, I went to the first salon that would take me and never looked back.  I decided that day I’d never dye my own hair again.

Oh hello uber blonde me…

Frightening.

Around 24 is when I decided to give my poor hair a rest.  I started really trying to grow it out, and have realized that this is about as far as she goes.  So why not have a little fun?

From…

Flat color… weird face… (shirt/dress, making another faux appearance)

To….

Subtle yet refreshing.  Refined, if you will.  And hidden face, which is always much less awkward.

Overall.. I love it.  My husband said, “I thought you were getting your hair colored,” when I walked through the door last night.  Perhaps he would have preferred me when I looked like Bozo the clown?   And don’t hold your breath for those pictures.   They only come out when I’m feeling self-deprecating and need a quick ego-boost.