|My favourite card from my 40th birthday.|
I might be experiencing a slight of midlife crisis. I usually have some grand thoughts that I like to blog about, but this time I will actually talk about my hair. Yap. This is (was) a picture of me some days ago:
I have had long black hair for many, many years now. And it has been ok. But now there is this thing about some of my hair turning a different shade of color. Against my will. It is starting to shine and sparkle so as to make me scared the magpies will be coming for me any second now. And many years ago, I promised myself that when I started turning grey, I would start colouring my hair lighter so as to make the transition more smooth. So this week, I had an appointment with the hairdresser. And I wanted to do something TOTALLY different. I mean, this is the time to experiment. It is not as fun when you are 60, so now is the time.
The hairdresser brushed my hair and complimented my hair. Then she asked: "How do you want me to cut your hair?". I did not even have time to shape my lips to start taling begfore she cut me off and said sternly: "If you tell me you are cutting it short, I will refuse to cut your hair!". I had to laugh because of her comment and indignation and could calm her down telling her I had no intentions of leaving the place with any kind of boyish hair.
THIS is the kind of hair I would want to have:
(At the hairdresser, we thumb through books and point at hairstyles and color, and just choose. What if we could do that with the rest of ourselves? Not to mention our bodies. "I would like those kind of thighs, those kind of hips... and those cheekbones!". Then, 30 minutes later, we could walk out the door, just like that. *sigh* Oh, well. I guess it is a good thing that we can´t. We would all have looked like each other and there would be little originality in the world. So we just have to live with what and who we are. Just as well!)
BUT then there was the case with my hair. What I wanted, was not what my hair wanted. I underwent decolorisation, but my black hair had no intention of letting go. Only spots here and there. So after a length of time and several tries, I finally sat in front of the mirrors with the weirdest hair ever. A little mousy brown/grey at the top, and a strange mix of brown and RED all round the rest. So we had to move to another plan: The rescue-this-horrible-hair plan. Filled in some color at the top, and some brown and light in between the rest. End result: Brownish hair with a hint of red. I tried to take a selfi of only the hair to show you how I ended up, but it wasn´t easy. These are the results:
In other words; way off. I am not becoming a PRO selfie photographer any time soon... Oh, well. I will post a proper picture later some time.
"The happiest time in a woman´s life, are the years she is twenty nine. ".
So ladies; time to enjoy our happiest years!