Tuesday, August 13, 2013

The Dark Ages


For years, I always told my mom, "I'm not going to color or highlight my hair now, because when I'm married I won't want to spend the money on it." Which was practical and forward thinking, but also a freshman in high school shouldn't be concerned about her newlywed tight budget in the far-future. (6 years.) 

This year, I endured my third Rexburg winter.  Some cold-climate residents suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder. (SAD) I suffer from Seasonal Ugly Disorder. (SUD) In the winter, my skin turns an unhealthy shade of off-white. No amount of blush or bronzer can give the breath of life to my face. Then the freezing, dry air sucks out all the moisture from my pale skin. And finally my hair, my poor hair. It turns an unnatural shade of bronde. (Brown/blonde) Natural highlights and shine vanish. 

Every winter it happens. And around February I always look for a SUD remedy. This year, I caught the brunette bug. 'Become a brunette, yes, that is what I need!' I thought. The thought consumed me constantly. (And my Pinterest boards.) 

So I hopped into a salon chair, and dyed my virgin hair. And then the stylist pulled off the towel to reveal my new hair and said, "Hmm, well that's interesting."

 ...Because that is what every girl who is dying her hair for the first time wants to hear. 

Apparently, my hair has red undertones. It pulled RED from a glaze that didn't even have red in it. 


Red with shame.

So then, we made the big move to LA. And it occurred to me, "I am in the Mecca of hair stylists. This is where the people with the hair I pin to my Pinterest hair boards get their hair done!" 

I quickly realized I do not have the hair funds of a celebrity. 

BUT, I did my research and discovered on Wednesday nights the Neil George salon has their interns practice hair on willing participants at a fraction of the cost. 

Driving up to the salon, my Jetta with Idaho plates looked slightly out of place on Melrose Avenue. Flustered as I sat in the salon chair, I talked about wanting to get highlights to begin the journey back to my natural color. Looking in the mirror, out of cruddy apartment lighting I normally see myself in, I saw how much my original color had faded and then rust color it had left behind. Darn it, I wanted to be a brunette and that red had gotten in the way! I turned to the stylist and said,  "Never mind, I actually want to try being brunette without any red tones." Which she heard as, "Make me as dark as possible, without dying my hair black."


This is the face of insanity. Don't make rash decisions in the salon chair. 


Fading to a decent shade. 


Presently: Aaaand the red is back. 

This Saturday, I have an appointment to bring me back to my natural color. (If possible.) Unless, of course I get some bright (dark) idea in the salon chair. 

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