I love the look of black hair. Blue-black, slick, shiny hair. My natural hair color - at least for the first 27 years of my life - was black/brown.
I hated it.
Too straight and too dark.
I did all I could to change it. I began when I was 13 by boiling onion skins and trying to highlight it. I then discovered Sun-In. Yeah, that worked... a little. I then took the (dumb) plunge; I tried combing straight peroxide onto it. Yeah. No. Not enough. Long story short, I ended up pouring not one, but two bottles of the stuff onto my hair. I did this at my cousin's house. We were both really wanting to do something drastic. She didn't. But she did walk with me to the local 7-11 to buy peroxide. She didn't try to talk me out of buying two bottles. Perhaps she thought one was for her hair. Nope. Then, when I was done, she simply muttered; "Uh, Mary..."
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Yep. Orange just like Greg's. |
When I came home from their house, I quickly walked into my bedroom. My mom came in and her smile faded. No, she didn't cry. She yelled. I'll leave that to your imagination.
Now, I have always loved extreme hair stuff; colors, cuts. I have always wanted a really short, almost shaved look. I tried it one time and I guess the shape of my head just doesn't facilitate that type of cut. So I gave up on the short stuff and went long.
Let's now fast-forward to the present. Kind of. In the not so distant past, I decided to go gray. 100% me. No dye. I liked it. My kids loved it. So did my husband. So did strangers. I still like it. The only problem is that it's no longer grey/white.
Now, it's blue/black.
I had been playing with the idea of going black for a few months. I have had a really bad year, physically and one day, when things were really bad and my emotions were at an all-time frenzied mess, I did it; I dyed my hair black. Blue black.
It was a big shock when I first saw it. My husband hated it. Black is dark, isn' it? . Yeah. Very. As the days went on, I grew to really like it, more and more. It showed off my eyes, I thought. In photos, I could really see my Mexican/Spanish side, now. I really liked that.
I began reading how to care for dyed black hair. The more I read, the more discouraged and regretful I became. I learned that dying your hair black is way more damaging than bleaching it.
It's true.
My hair feels like straw. If I don't condition it for like 5 minutes after I shampoo it, I can't even brush it, let alone get a comb through it. But that's not the worst part. Now, my roots are coming in. There is no way, as lovely at is it, that I will dye the roots black. No freakin' way. So, what to do? Let the gray grow back and keep cutting it? I'm thinking yeah. I hate to say this, but I simply cannot afford to get it done professionally right now. I know, I sound cheap and tacky. Whatever. I keep hearing Dolly Parton as Truvy in Steel Magnolias saying, "I can spot a bottle-job from a mile away." Yeah well. Whatever. Medical crap has made me poor... okay not poor, but I certainly cannot afford to shell out $150 to repair what I did to it. Yes, I know I ruined it. I accept full responsibility.
I'm letting the black grow out. It won't be quiet the ombre-look, but at least it will be free of chemicals. I may go back to brown. Maybe. Some say I look much younger with brown... others say I look sexy with the silver. It's all opinion. Mine is the most important. So, the next time you see me, I will definitely have some silver streaks in with the black.
Oh, and I also want to apologize to my mom. She too used to dye her white locks black. I used to give her so much flack about it. I'm sorry, Ma.
Until next time,
Peace
Whatever! You are beautiful no matter what your hair color (and you are not the only victim of a bad bottle job!!). I once decided to try a different (less expensive) brand than my usual gorgeous red brown (L'Oreal #5RB), and ended up with BURGUNDY hair!! So not me!! Shampooed A LOT that month, lol!!
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