measi's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It's quite stylish, really... I currently have the oh-so-stylish hairdo that looks like something out of the feral children's camp in Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome. Well gooped and crusted with god-knows-what chemicals (I don't want to know... really). Everything's twisted into a big lump of hair stuck on top of my head so it doesn't come in contact with clothes, because god-knows-what chemicals could cause quite the beautiful bleaching and multi-colored display on what I'm wearing. Yes, it's "Melissa reclaims her blonde roots" day. Clairol Hydrience #04, Sunrise (Light Golden Blonde), two full bottles of it to cover my dark roots and also blend the color into the rest of my hair, to bring back some semblance of the happy, bright, warm hair I had in my childhood... as opposed to that dark blonde that some people call "dirty." I call it ew. The problem is that I was beginning to get a distinctive roots ring around my head, and with the holidays and potential holiday photographs, I need my hair to be a single color blend, not two (with a straight line between them, thanks). I have about ten more minutes before I rinse it all out and see how it turned out. Coloring my hair is nothing new. I've been doing it in some form since I was twelve. Mom used to take me to her hairdresser to get highlights in it during the winter. I remember the hell that it entailed-- this was before foiling was really used outside of the expensive, big city salons. So I, being in the backwoods of Montana, got the dreaed other method... The rubber cap. This thing looked like a combination of a condom and a thimble. And it was so tight and painful that getting it pulled off your head was a relief. My hairdresser would take a crochet hook and pull clumps of hair through a series of holes in the cap, and those would be the pieces getting highlighted. Of course, hair never behaves the way you want it to, and so when she'd pull a clump through, my hair strands would immediately clump and tangle around its buddies, making me feel like someone was pulling gum out of my hair with each hooking. Ugh, it was horrible. But it was the price to be beautiful, after all-- no one said we women didn't suffer for our beauty, right? When I got to college, I was envious of the girls who had the inner courage to dye their hair a myriad of colors (thanks to Manic Panic hairdye). I've always had a secret wish to dye mine either green or purple. But I also loved red hair-- as I think everyone gets from time to time. During my sophomore year of college, I trekked up to Ivanna's apartment, and she dyed it for me. It came out... well... RED. More of a crimson, actually. And honestly, I liked it. But I went home for Christmas, and oh, how my mother hated it. She denies doing it now, but I remember a few occasions of her denying that I was her daughter, because her daughter was blonde. It was just dark red enough to clash with everything Boston University-related that I had, since BU has bright red as one of its school colors. Ah yes, the tragedies of a college student-- how to avoid looking horrid in my red and white Waldo-esque pep-band shirt. Needless to say, I didn't go red again, although I don't deny the tempation is there still... Ivanna moved away, and I've been forced to color my own hair now for several years-- it takes a couple to three bottles each time, depending on the length of time (and my hair) at any given time. When I'm down at mom's and have the time, I got to her hairdresser, Steve, who is a wonderfully fun (and very gay) guy who has fun playing with my hair color and giving it foil highlights. He usually gives me a slap on the hand for coloring it myself, but hey... I never know when I'll be down there, and it needs to be kept up (and I'm not paying Boston prices to get mine done, since it requires a double-dose of everything because it's so long and thick). Time to go rinse and make myself a blondie again... I need to be gorgeous. *big grin* ~ Mel. 2:09 p.m. - 14 December 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||