Tag Archives: hair dye

The Hair Saga: Dusty Rose or Passion Pink?

Y’all… I just watched a tribute to the music of the Bee Gees last night, so I currently have the songs Night Fever and Staying Alive on a constant loop of annoyance in my brain space. Slap a disco ball on me and call me Travolta! I’m really mostly sorry you had to miss the dancing because woo boy… if the Village People were present they’d have arrested me on the spot… for serious!

In other news, I got a “tip” on how to better color stubborn grey hairs… I usually just buy a box of dye at the Wally World and slap that sucker on like it’s 1952. It’s worked fine, except for the fact that I still see errant greys sticking out in my bangs and temple regions… I’ve pretty much pulled way too many grey hairs out my head as that was my method of covering grey for many years, so I have like 12 hairs left. When I was getting my hair cut the other week, I asked the stylist for some tips… and tips she gave. Go to Sally Beauty, pick a color (lighter than the color you want because it always colors darker) and then 2 different developers, a stronger one and a not so stronger one. Okay… well, how easy is that said the grey hair puller chic!

When I was at Sally Beauty Supply looking through the hair colors, I ran into a lady in her 50s or 60s? I can never guess with ages… she turned to me and was all like, which color do you think would look best on me… this dusty rose color or passion pink? Seeing as I have a conservative stick up my butt and the last thing I did that made me stand out in a crowd (well, besides weighing 530 pounds at one point) was split my pants open (and that wasn’t on purpose), I was about to point her to the mousy brown section, when she threw in the hot pink color to the choices. Okay, Jem and the Holograms… but where’s Rainbow Brite!?

I settled on a brown color with a reddish tint to it since that’s my natural hair color… even picked the lighter shade since that was part of the tip. To make a long story less long, Saturday night’s mixture made me look like Anne of Green Gables on steroids… wayyyyy too reddish pinkish… not the pretty color of red either. The next day I used a brown color from Wally World, that I already had in my closet, over top of it hoping it would temper the brightness… it sure did Gertrude… if you enjoy your hair being purple. Whatever… I will give that lady one thing… my greys were sure as heck all covered up after that ordeal. It’s been a few weeks of hair washing and the color has tamed down quite a bit, so I don’t mind it now even if it’s not the color I wanted. Moral of the story, go with dusty rose… always!

How is everyone else doing this rainy April!? Anything new and groovy?

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The purplish hair (after the 2nd dye job)… you can’t tell how purpley it was because of the lighting… but let’s just say if the Hot Pink chick was looking for someone to play in her Jem Band, I was her girl!

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Lookit! It’s Piggy Baby BoBo!

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BoBo wants a sandbox, Lindsay! Hello!

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Official “Dye”d In The Wool Old Maid…

I’ve been lamenting… as we lamenters tend to do… for years now about how my mom passed her early-grey-hair genes my way.  My mom had grey hair for years when I was a kid… for as long as I can remember.  She didn’t start dying her hair until much later in life… I think it happened around the time Lindsay constituted herself a fashionista and therefore grey-mom hair wouldn’t fly in her presence!  As for me… I’ve been pulling out grey hairs since I was 18.  I figured if I pulled them out it would be a lot cheaper than dying my hair, and now that I have approximately 3 hairs left, I’m starting to regret that decision!  It’s slowly and gradually gotten to the point where pulling the hairs out isn’t gonna cut it.  I have too many and I hate looking in the mirror at 34 years old to see grey staring me in the beady eyeballs.  Instead of actually doing something about it, I’ve just lamented the greyness… like an annoying record player stuck in the same position for 50,000 years (Kids… a record player is from back when dinosaurs roamed the Earth… carry on).

I couldn’t wrap my head around wasting money every 4 to 6 weeks to have someone dye my hair.  Plus, I had a bad experience the last 2 times I dyed my hair.  It was back when I was a teeny bopper and I suddenly had the overwhelming urge to turn myself into Anne of Green Gables.  I thought I was tres cool buying me a box of auburn hair dye at the K-M-Apart.  The morning after when I woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed my hair had turned purple, I was as cool as a socks-with-sandals wearer.  I’m sure it had something to do with the quality of the 1990s hair dye and/or the fact that I had no business trying to look like Anne of Green Gables when clearly I was a Diana Barry (three people who read this blog will know what I’m talking about… the rest of you… zone out for that last sentence).

So, I finally jumped in and just did it tonight.  I got recommendations on the best hair dye and bought me a box of it yesterday (yes, from the same exact store as my last disaster).  Madre helped me dye it tonight (since sans glasses I’m like a walking drunkard in a booze parade).  The verdict?  Eh… I still can see the silver shining through the leaves.  Madre thinks I’m hallucinating, but I think she might need to put her glasses on.  At least it’s not purple… yet.

In other happenings… at Sam’s Club yesterday I sat in the car because I didn’t need anything and I’m trying to be less spontaneous in my food purchases on account of the fact that I’m starting anew.  When one parks at Sam’s Club on a Saturday, you have 3 choices.  Park 5 miles away and walk in, drive up and down the aisles until you see someone packing their trunk to leave, or get creative.  Chic yesterday got creative.  Madre had done the drive up and down the aisles until someone backed out choice, so we parked in front of a 4-foot landscape-paved wall.  A lady with a cart absolutely chock full of all things Sam’s Club parked her cart next to my rolled-down window and started to unload it onto the 4-foot rock wall.  She had like olive oil and a pumpkin pie and woman liners and vinegar, etc., etc., etc., all lined up and down this wall.  She then hefted herself up onto the wall, walked through a rock garden, and another parking lot to where she’d parked her car 7 miles away, unlocked her trunk, and then made the trip back to the wall to retrieve her crap, repeating the process for near 20 minutes… humming all the while!  I needed a nap when she was finally done.  Of course I didn’t heft myself out my car seat to assist her… ain’t no way I and all my grace are scaling a 4-foot wall with limbs still intact.

Moral of the story… uh… I got none.  But have a great week.  It’s October on Tuesday!  Plan accordingly.

 

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