I am dyeing my hair for the millionth time, but for only the second time this year. I think I started when I was thirteen or so...you can't buy knives or adult magazines when you're under eighteen, but apparently hair colour is ok. (Rebellious children take note!) I haven't had my natural hair colour since. It used to be a joke that I dyed my hair constantly so that I wouldn't have to know when it was turning grey, but the joke is on me. The past couple weeks, when I've pulled my hair back into the pompadour required for an eighteenth century lady, one determined grey hair has cheerfully poked up, defying bobby pins and hairspray alike. So for the first time, I am actually dyeing my hair to cover grey.
That doesn't mean I'm doing anything different...my method is slather-and-scrub, no matter what the box might say. And I do someday look forward to sporting a head of beautiful white-grey, like the matriarchs in my family. I will probably take advantage of not having to bleach my hair first to finally dye it purple...I hope so, anyway.
Urghhh...I wanted to say something profound but I have to go wash this goop out of my hair. Jeff and I are going reenacting this weekend...I hope to have some pictures to post and a proper update soon.