I am a woman of a certain age.
As a woman of a certain age, I am plagued with gray hair. Actually, the
hairs I speak of are not really gray. That is a misconception. They are
actually white. As white as the loathsome snow falling from the drab,
depressing Minneapolis sky this afternoon.
Absent of all color, these hairs glow. Seriously. They glow.
And, while the rest of the hair sprouting from my head is relatively
straight, these rogue white hairs grow in perfect curlicues that rival any
hairdo Shirley Temple ever sported. They like to gather right above my ears and
curl away from my head, giving me the appearance of a Hasidic Jew with traditional
Peyot (yes, those curls have a name). My Peyot are not religious in nature. Nor
are they a particularly attractive look for a forty-one year old pasty Midwestern
lesbian.
So what do I do about it?
I color my hair. I color the hell out of my hair. Just last night, I
spent three hours in a salon chair getting an all-over color, a partial foil,
and something called a paint-between. It was quite the elaborate spectacle, but
I was thrilled with the results. I washed that gray (incandescent white) right
outta my hair!
So this evening, I am walking around Target—totally rocking my new
blondish-brownish-reddish-not so ashy-and definitely not white well-blended
foils—and notice several lesbian couples out shopping, as well. Because, as
everyone knows, Target is a bastion of seething lesbianism. And I notice that
almost every woman I see—strangely, they are all forty-somethings like me—has gray
hair. Maybe not completely gray, but obviously un-colored. This got me thinking…
Why do lesbians not color their hair?
I would venture a guess that, compared to the female population at
large, lesbians are less likely to dye their hair. Someone should do a study. A
double-blind study aimed at proving or disproving my hypothesis. Sounds like an
incredibly shrewd use of our tax dollars, don’t you think?
As I sit here thinking about my own group of friends and acquaintances,
I have come to the stunning realization that the majority of them do not dye
their hair. When we get together, there is an awful lot of radiant white peeking
out from those perfectly coiffed flat tops.
So why is this? What is the purpose of allowing one’s hair to go gray
gracefully? What does this say about the lesbian community? And, more importantly, what the hell does
this say about me?
Am I shallow?
Am I vain?
Am I desperately clinging to any tiny semblance of my misspent youth
that I can get my arthritic fingers wrapped around?
Bloody hell! Am I straight?!?
My partner, Ruanita, refuses to color her hair. Though she is 8 ½ years
older than me, she has a LOT less gray hair than me—a fact that flings me headfirst
into a deep crater of depression if I allow myself to dwell on it. Genetics are
a bitch, huh?
I like to think that I am gray because I live with her and she is not gray because she lives with me, but
Ruanita would probably disagree. And likely curse at me profusely.
When I ask her about coloring her hair, she simply replies, “I don’t
want to.” She likes her gray hair. She feels like she earned every hard-won
gray hair on her head. She wears them—the
few of them that are there—as a badge of honor. A testament to her life
experience. An outward symbol of her hard-earned wisdom and no-nonsense
gumption.
I, on the other hand, like pretty colors.
(Fuck. I am shallow.)
I like when my hair is blondish-brownish-reddish-not so ashy-and
definitely not white. It makes me feel good about myself. I feel more confident
when I feel less old and frumpy. And confidence is a good thing, right?
Perhaps I am in denial about my age. Perhaps I am too invested in my personal
appearance. (Of course, if this were true, logic would dictate that I would get
my ass off the couch, lose some weight, and maybe shave my Yeti-like legs on
occasion.) Perhaps I need to just let myself go gray gracefully and work on my
more pressing psychological issues instead.
I don’t know.
But I find the whole gray lesbian phenomenon fascinating.
What about you?
2 comments:
Dye dye dye until I die die die.
Oh my God!
I just laughed out loud when you said you were stright!!
jajajaj loved that!
You're very witty and I'm enjoying your blog very much!
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