Insert dumb blonde joke here
I recently went to the hair stylist for a trim and a little color. I don’t color my hair very often, but last year I decided to get some light blonde highlights put in my darker blonde hair. It was a spur of the moment decision that I enjoyed for awhile, but decided not to repeat. Since my hair grows like a weed and the highlights weren’t completely unnatural looking, I decided to leave the highlights alone and let them grow out.
This plan was working out just fine until I realized that I had a rather important meeting to attend and didn’t think that having two+ inch roots showing was going to look all that professional, so I made an appointment to get my hair colored (one color all over - even though I really am dying to get some pink highlights). The appointment day came and off to the stylist at 7:30 am (the only time I could find in my crazy schedule) I went. I sat down in the chair and explained that I just needed a trim for my haircut. I also explained that I needed my hair colored back to match my natural shade of blonde. Since I had two+ inches of natural colored hair already showing, she did not seem to think this would be a problem.
The stylist, who has been doing this for around 20 years, mixed up the permanent hair color mixture and started painting my hair. The haircoloring stuff looks a lot like the color of mashed plums, but the pre-color never looks like the end color so I thought nothing of it. She finishes her masterpiece of a paint job and off I head to sit under the dryer. While I sit and wait I read all the work emails that I have missed in the 30 minutes of sitting in the chair. The next step, of course, is to wash off all the extra mix from my hair (which she does most effectively) and then head back to the chair for a trim.
We get back to the chair where there is a mirror and OMG my hair is red! Red! A color not even close to anything natural for me. It is not fire engine red, but it definitely has fire like characteristics. And it is definitely not anywhere close to my natural color. The stylist sees my face and she runs off to mix up a new batch of goop, so we can start the process over again. Paint… Bake… Wash… She gets it closer this time. But not my natural color and my hair wouldnt survive a third treatment. The end result is that my hair is no longer red, but it is also no longer blonde. I am now a brunette with the ever so slight tint of a redhead (which may explain a lot).
What did I learn from all this?
Next time I’m just going to go ahead and get the pink highlights.
Life in the Highlands (3)
For my first hair coloring attempt, I told my hairdresser I wanted my natural color–just cover up the stray grey hairs. I, too, became a red-head. (I might have slight red highlights, but my natural hair color is brown-not red.) My hairdresser then tried to convince me it wasn’t red. (It was.)
The next time, I told my hairdresser to make it a lighter color. She covered the grey with blonde highlights. It was perfect. I loved it. And I didn’t realize how much better it was than my old color, until my old color started to grow back.
In two weeks–for my next appointment–I’m going blonde again. (Well, highlighted blonde anyway.) In my heart, however, I’ll always be mouse-y brown.
But, hey, I fully endorse your right to go pink.
I think mouse-y brown is a good hair color. At least, it would have been preferable to the red. But I vote you join me and go pink