"How can I control my life when I can't control my hair?" Author Unknown
It all began innocently enough last January. We were getting ready to head south for the winter and one of my last tasks was my usual haircut. I'm not sure why, but I asked the hairdresser, "Do you think I should consider changing my hairstyle?" Maybe it was the cumulative effect of seeing myself in that hairdresser dull drape with the same short hair style for nearly fifty years. Is it time for a change?
"A bob," my hairdresser said, "it's a cut for all ages. You'd look good in that style." She said it would take about seven months to complete the transition. Being away seemed the perfect time to start. The first couple months were uneventful, with an occasional shaping to keep it in some semblance of order.
As my style change advanced, I began to realize a woman's relationship with her hair can be a complicated thing, and I begin to question whether how one chooses to wear it says something about where she is along her life journey. My daughter, Christina, believes a woman who never changes her hair is leaving it in the era where she was most happy.
Hmm. That's interesting. I first cut my hair short when I started nursing school (see picture). I know I'm much less serious these days than I was then, much more content with life, but let's face it, age 19 is a pretty exciting, carefree time in our lives. Or is that I'm merely older and less passionate about life now? I hope not.
In 1985, Hubert de Givenchy wrote in Vogue magazine, "Hairstyle is the final tip-off whether or not a woman really knows herself."(for more hair quotes, go to http://www.quotegarden.com/hair.html) Sorry, Hubert, but I don't want to believe that. And yet...
And so, I began my pilgrimage of growth. Hair, that is. In the past, I paid little attention to my coiffure. Once I combed it in the morning, I figured it was on its own. Suddenly, I now find myself checking every mirror to make sure the ends are smooth, not sticking out in all directions. When I wake up in the morning and sit up in bed, I can see myself in the large mirror directly opposite my bed. My hair is definitely beginning to look just like that of the caricature on the vase my granddaughter, Julia, gave me about five years ago. Does she have some sort of forecasting power, I wonder?
I'm noticing the color, too. Again, something that never concerned me before. It's white, has been since I was in my 30's so I've never seen white hair as part of my own aging, but now, I notice some yellow tinges creeping in. Not blonde, much more like slightly used dish water. Most likely it's due to the annual flushing of our water lines here on our island, but somehow, that never bothered me as it does now. This hair thing is getting more and more complicated.
So I trek over the bridge to the mainland in search of shampoo, the kind for silver hair. I've seen it before, even bought it once or twice on sale. Funny how they never call it shampoo for gray or white hair. Another sign of ageism in advertising. That discovery is reinforced when I notice even the lady getting into the tub with the side door on the TVadvertisement is younger than the real women who need this assistive device, as are those lucky ladies on the Viagra commercials.
See how this whole hair thing is mushrooming. Ah, if only my hair would grow as fast. I am beginning to ask myself: why a change now? Is it to prove some sort of flexibility point or only my exceptional stubbornness in not knowing when to fold this whole hair quest?
Back to my search for shampoo. CVS has lots of shampoo, as does Walmart. None for white, excuse me, silver hair. Target wins the variety award, hands down. More than one long aisle is full of shampoo – for coarse, curly, fine, oily, limp, dull, dry, damaged, stressed, or straight hair. Flavors, too. Lemon scented, strawberry, watermelon. It's possible, I think, to end up smelling like a fruit salad just by shampooing your hair. Such variety, but no shampoo for silver hair, none to get the yellow out, though, lots for blonde hair that needs a lift.
As I drive home from my fruitless shampoo search, I wonder whether my quest is really for shampoo or a new style. The journey, for sure, has led me to a greater awareness of how women perceive themselves and how self image and worth are affected by our image driven media.
I think about all the brave women who have shaved their heads in defiance of the impending loss of hair as a result of chemotherapy for breast cancer. I think of my granddaughter, Grace, who at age 13, grew her hair long enough to donate it to Locks for Love ( http://www.locksoflove.org/). And the absolutely beautiful young woman with alopecia who is running for Miss Delaware. She definitely has a strong sense of self.
For more information on how to donate hair for women and children with illness, go to: http://www.pantene.com/en-us/beautiful-lengths-cause/default.aspx. or http://hair.lovetoknow.com/Donating_Hair_for_Cancer_Victims
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