Different is nice, but it sure isn’t pretty.
Pretty is what it’s about.
I never met anyone who was different.
Who couldn’t figure that out?
“At The Ballet”, A Chorus Line
I’ve learned a couple of things so far in life, but one of the most important is: when the hair dresser says “well, it will certainly be different” that’s not necessarily a good thing. When she says it after looking at the sample photos and then looking at your face, it’s time to rethink. You’ll be proud of me for my intent to evolve. But I’m not stupid. So, rather than stripping the hair, we’re taking this magical butterfly-like metamorphosis in stages. My hair is (was) really dark, so we’re somewhere in Stage 1now: the launch.
When she said she was going to add highlights to start lightening process, I figured you wouldn’t be able to see much difference. Ha! Shows you I never made it to beauty school. Before my hair was dark brown with a roan base, now it is many, many different colors. Part of it is a light copper color, and I think that’s how the red will start showing up. It’s sort of Monet-like at the moment. When you get too close, it’s this weird jumble of all these different colors. But if you step back (a mile, or two) it isn’t too bad. Stage 2 comes next month, I think-- right before Alex O'Loughlin night. Frankly, the only thing keeping me from freaking out entirely (you know besides the “holy crap” exclamation when I first saw it) is that I can always dye it darker all at once.
Progress. Slow, but steady progress.
Kate, who jumps every time she looks in a mirror