I'm coloring my hair as I write this tonight. I thought covering up the multiplying gray on my head might lighten my mood. I was probably around 10 when Mom started coloring her hair and did so up until about five years before she died. I don't ever remember that she had her hair colored at the beauty shop; she used to buy Clairol and do it herself. She would walk around w/ a towel around her shoulders w/ her hair in a plastic bag while the "stuff" did its magic.
I'm back......had to rinse out the goop. I didn't have to walk around w/ plastic covering my hair, but I did keep the towel over my shoulders. I used to love to sit on the step-stool down in the basement and watch Mom as she put the stuff in her hair then gathered it up into the plastic bag. Ah, the sweet little, childhood memories that can make me smile.
When I was in my teens and early 20's, I remember thinking that I would grow old gracefully and not rely on products to color my hair or creams to soften the wrinkles. Oh, what an idiot I was. Vanity comes at midlife so I'm following Mom's rule of fighting the aging process every step of the way. She was always fond of saying, "You're as young as you feel." I've decided that covering up the gray makes me feel younger, so I'm doing it. The only reason Mom stopped coloring her hair was b/c my nephews commented that her hair looked purple. After that she decided silver was better. Black, purple, or silver, Mom always looked sharp.
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