Going Grey

Before the lockdown, I thought about growing out my roots or bleaching my hair and dying it silver, like all the cool, young things are doing. Then lockdown happened and I decided now would be a good time to embrace being an older lady and I aspired to look like Dianne Keaton in the film Hampstead.

The first stage involved a stripe of grey roots appearing amongst my dyed brunette locks and I looked a bit like a startled badger. My younger daughter's roots were growing out fast too and so I ordered some hair stripper to remove the dark dye from both our hair but we had to wait a month for it to arrive from Jamaica. When it came, my daughter slathered the solution over all of my scalp and it washed out to a nasty nappy poo colour, which to be fair is probably my natural colour but I can't quite remember as I've been dying my hair since I was fifteen. She decided to use on a strip of her hair rather than all over - very wise and then she dyed it pink. It looks pretty cool now with pink roots and black tips plus a stripe of pink running through.

With my shoulder length, mustard brown hair adorned with slivers of grey, I resembled a mad cat lady and there was nothing for it but to hand my daughter a pair of hairdressing scissors and ask her to do her worst. It came out as a pretty neat bob after lots of chopping into and the style feels a lot fresher even with my go faster stripes. I can still smell the stripper when I sniff my hair though and it stinks of ammonia.

I'm thinking that the next stage might be a pixie crop. Late last night after too many glasses of summer white wine, I applied for a breast cancer charity pack to 'chop that mop'. This morning I am wondering if I am brave enough to go for that Judi Dench cut I've always coveted. Should I cut off my bob to make a few bob for charity?