Deeply conflicted. On the surface, what's vexing me may seem like a shallow topic; hair color... I mean with everything that's going on in our world today, who cares about hair color? We watch the news. There are forest fires raging, mass shootings, global warming, Harvey Weinstein accusers being accused themselves, and don't even get me started on factory farming and animal agriculture - ugh will there ever be good news?
Then you turn to your email inbox and find a blog post from me moaning about hair color, should you even care? If you're a woman, I think you'll wanna discuss this with me because I'm not talking about - Should I go lighter? Get highlights? Or go red? I'm talking about stepping off the color wheel altogether. There is a pretty hardcore double standard out there against women going grey.
Don't believe me? Check out this ARTICLE about Celebrities who have confessed to covering up their silver strands. First of all "confess" like it's a sin and second the tag line reads: See which stars admit to having -- and hiding -- their grays. Like it's some dirty little secret. It obviously shouldn't be, but it is.
Frankly I have so much to say on the subject that I don't even know where to begin. You might wanna pause here, go grab a coffee or make a cup of tea and settle in because gurl, we got stuff to talk about.
I come from a culture where we respect old age and wisdom, especially in women. Our grandmothers are our knowledge keepers. I can hear my dad now saying "respect your elders". In fact if I sass him, he still says it to me now and I'm a grown ass woman. Then there's my mom. My mom embraced her silver tresses in her mid-forties and she rocked it. She's gorgeous. She was never ashamed of her grey hair. So what's the problem? I should be build for this transition, no?
Well, I work in an industry where youth is worshipped and age is almost reviled. (If you're not up to speed, I write for film and television) And while I'm not in front of the camera, people still seem more interested in a young "fresh" perspective. If you seem old, they become afraid that you're out of touch, out of date or not current somehow. As if the wisdom of your years or your life experience doesn't make you a great writer. Which sort of stinks because it doesn't seem to be that way with other types of writing I don't think. Or maybe it is and I'm just not privy to it. Luckily for me, I still look pretty youthful so I get by.
Anyway - that's only really part of the discussion. Let me give you some backstory.
A year or two ago, I was cruising through Pinterest as you do when you're procrastinating instead of working, and I came across the image of a woman who I came to later learn was model Sam Gold. This is that image.
And I thought, wow. When I grow up, I want to be her.
So then I began wondering, how old is old enough? The general consensus seems to be after 50. I discussed it at length with He Who Shall Not Be Named, and he agreed, sometime after 50 it would be okay, but not really now. Now seems too soon.
I toyed with the idea some more. I reached out to my trusted and beloved stylist Natalia in Vancouver, just to see what she thought. She's an award winning competitive colorist. She took care of my hair for over seven years when I lived out west, if anyone could give me sound advice, it would be her. She said she didn't think it would be a good idea. It would be too high maintenance if I colored it silver and I am not a high-maintenance hair girl, and if I elected to grow it, it would be a long and painful transition. So the resounding answer was no.
Hmm.
I wondered, should I get a second opinion? I had found a colorist here in Toronto whom I adored. We were together for a year and a half before she moved away, but we'd stayed in touch. So I texted her and asked, should I go grey? I got a "hell no", it's not you. Okay. I sat with that.
Still not satisfied, I went to my then current stylist and had her pick through my tresses to look at the roots I'd let peek through and said, what do you think about me transitioning to grey? Again I got a no. You're too young. It will age you by more than ten years. Don't do it. She was kind of a chatty hair dresser - like it would take me hours just to get a cut so I messaged Natalia and asked for a recommendation and she suggested I try a friend of hers - also a competitive award winning colorist.
She gave me a fantastic hair cut. But I didn't dare ask her about transitioning. Not on our first meeting. I let the subject die for a while.
Now at this point, you may be thinking, of course your hairdressers are going to say don't do it, they make a living off of you, but that isn't the case. I go for cuts mostly and only ever get my hair color-corrected about once a year. The rest of the time, I box color. The reason for that? I have to color on average every two weeks. EVERY TWO WEEKS PEOPLE.
You're now seeing why I'm so curious to stop this hamster wheel of dying aren't you?
Over this past Christmas I had a hiatus from the show I was working on. He Who Shall Not Be Named, his mom and I got together at a cottage in the woods for the holidays and I decided it would be a good time to experiment. I let my hair grow for six weeks then asked them what they thought. Both my beloved and my mother-in-law said nope. Doesn't suit you. You're much too young. You have such lovely dark hair.
When we got home, I covered the roots and thought whew, yes. This looks better. Dodged a bullet there. What the hell was I thinking. I'm not ready to go grey for crying out loud.
But then several boxes of dye later, back in the cycle of coloring every two damned weeks - I got hit with vertigo. It wasn't until I found myself dizzy as fuck, on the bathroom floor, ready to barf at any second - waiting for the timer to ding so I could wash the dye out that I though - Shan, what the hell are you doing? This isn't right! Was I so vain that I could quite literally be on my death bed but I'd still drag my sorry butt to the bathroom to color my hair?
Once I got feeling better, I went back to my "new" stylist for a cut and I tried again. Hey, I'm nothing if not persistent. And guess what, noble reader? She said no. I had let my roots grow in for about three weeks so she was able to see what was going on. Her opinion was that I was again - too young - and I was much too salt-and-pepper. I wasn't white enough. What?
That was new. I had been convinced that I was like 90% grey, but I guess that's not the case. I still had quite a bit of dark hair. Right then and there in the chair, I decided out loud that I would let it grow. She laughed and said see you in a few months for a color. She told me I would hate it. It won't be what I think it is. It will be course and frizzy and like "witch hair".
Witch hair? Omg, is that what we think of when we think of grey hair? Grannies and witches?
It kind of is.
In any case, I thought maybe my stylist could be wrong. I could love it. I knew I had the upcoming summer off to work on some projects I have in development. I didn't have to go anywhere or see anyone - I could wear big floppy sunhats - it's the perfect time. Then by September in time for the Toronto International Film Festival, I could make a decision. Keep it, or color it.
Oh, if only it were that simple.
No my lovelies - it's become an obsession and I literally flip flop back and forth on a daily basis. I'm driving He Who Shall Not Be Named crazy!
When I committed to doing this the second time around, this time for real, I had a new mindset. I was "ready" or so I though. I ran through my life in my mind's eye and thought you know, in my twenties I was a riot girl. I did things randomly and spur of the moment. I ran off and joined a cruise ship to travel the world, I followed a boy to America, I lived in a yoga ashram - I was doing what you're supposed to do when you're young and wild. I was young and wild. Sorry mom.
Then in my thirties I began to try to figure out who I was. If my twenties were about seeking outward adventure, my thirties became about introspection. I continued with the ashram thing into my thirties where I met my one true love and later fully committed to who I wanted to be - I was a writer. So I set about working my ass off, nose to the grind-stone as they say - doing what you do in your thirties and making my way in the world. Now in my forties, I want to embrace them the same way. Really embody this mid-life thing. I could still be vibrant and spontaneous, but I also know more of who I am, I've had a tiny bit of success and my life is better than it has ever been.
I wanted to embrace all that 40 could offer - and grey hair seemed part of that package. It was truly grey so why not be my fully authentic self? Hell yes! I started going on YouTube and finding all these amazing women I have come to learn call themselves the #silversisters. They were like this glorious white, silver and grey sorority of every age and background you could imagine all rocking their grey. I then found this kickass chick on IG who started a page called Grombre which gave me tons of inspiration to fuel myself on the inevitable bad days.
Mostly, women talk about how liberating it is. I have three good friends who did it long before me and they all love their hair, the choice they made, the freedom in being color-free and true to who they are. They embody their inner goddesses.
I spoke to a couple of silver sisters in the dog park - both of whom encouraged me to go for it, said I'd love it and will look great once it grows in.
Of course I spoke with my mom. I asked her how she did it. How she felt about it and what she thought and she was 100% on board with my transition. All good stuff, right? So what's the problem, you ask? Why am I conflicted? Why do I so desperately need to talk to you about this and hear from you about it?
Because overwhelmingly the world still sees grey hair as old and the truth of the matter is that my last hairdresser, the stylist who's chair I made this decision to transition in was right! I kind of hate it. I don't want people to see it. I wear my hats everywhere. I feel embarrassed about it and I feel old.
Ugh, really? Maybe I can find something else for my forties to be about and this can be a fifties thing??
But on the good days, I love the light in it, how it sparkles in a way my dark hair never did. It's a much cooler tone now because my dark hair is a cool dark, near black color and I'd been coloring it all more of a warmer espresso brown for decades. But I'll be dead honest, it's at a hideous stage. I knew this day would come and I know it's going to last for well over a year or two - it will likely take three years to get it where I want it to be, but I don't know if I have the stones to see it through.
Sure, there are options. People add highlights and lowlights to blend it in, but to me that never looks good. You get a sort of bloronge color which is like a blond that goes brassy and orange. It looks fake.
But my mom made an excellent point the other day - She asked, do you really want to be a sixty-year-old lady who has fake dyed hair? No I do not, but sixty is miles away. Could I not embrace the grey in my fifties - late fifties even? Am I hitting this a decade or fifteen years too soon? But if I wait, then I will be 90% grey and won't the transition be even harder then? Especially because my skin will age too?
I'd like to look like Sam Gold when I AM fifty, not spend my fifties going through this hell of a transition.
However - There are people whom I admire greatly who swear they will never transition. People like my beloved Norma Kamali.
I actually might want to be like Norma even more than I want to be like Sam!
But I also want to be me.
So this is the conflict. I love it when I see a stylish woman rocking her grey. I love my mom's hair. But the truth is, I may not actually like it on me - yet I am not ready to throw in the towel yet. In fact, I read this quote from a twenty-something beauty who went grey -
She had this to say:
"Why don't you dye it?" My favorite question. Next comes my oversimplified answer, because two trips to the salon per month is way too expensive. If you've embraced your gray, you know that's just a sliver of the truth. The real answer is because I started graying before I was ten and wasn't that much too young to stress over aging? Because I don't want to miss how my gray hair changes over the years. Because so many women in my life want to go natural but are shamed into dying it by their spouse... or their friends... or even their mom. Because I no longer subscribe to the notion that, for women, as essential part of aging is disguising your age. Because after 10 years of dying my hair, I've come to realize that the color that looks best on me is the one growing out of my head. Because this is really me, and can't the real me be beautiful too?"
Okay, do you love this girl as much as I do!? She's hella wise beyond her years. And she looks great with grey hair BTW. She's on the @grombre site on IG.
We do get shamed for grey. People say things like "She really let herself go" or "look at that skunk line" (I happen to think skunks are a super cute animal if anyone cares but don't want to be called a skunk). Then there's the whole Cruella De Vil baddie.
I don't want to post a picture of my hair on here because I don't want the discussion to be about what I look like. Because regardless of how it looks or how it might look on me - I'd really truly love to hear your honest thoughts and opinions on transitioning to grey hair in general. Nay, I NEED to hear your thoughts.
Do you feel boxed in, and forced to color? Do you just like the way your colored hair feels after it's colored? Have you let your hair grow out and love it? Hate it? Have you ditched the dye or are you dye-hard.
Please have this discussion with me by commenting below.
Thanks loves,
Shan
