Joy of karagraphy bemoans her first gray hair today, but takes consolation: "There are still far more dark-almost-black hairs — only God knows how many — resiliently residing upon the same scalp as that lone silver beacon of mortality. And I can pluck beacons in the single digits, no problem. As long as grey hairs remain an anomaly, I’ll live. I may live even longer than that."
My reply to Joy in her comments section: "Ah, yes…how well I remember the days when it was just a lone gray hair here and there…easily pulled out. It’s when they start multiplying rapidly that you’re faced with the decision: go gray gracefully, or rage, rage against the dying of the brunette? I chose the latter. Constant coloring is a pain in the behind, but I prefer it to the tired look I get when the grays proliferate."
It IS a pain, because my hair color was one thing I really liked about myself, and I have never been able to appromiximate is closely enough out of a bottle.
I've gone the highlighting route as well (the results of which you see in the picture on my sidebar.) I like it for a while, and then I start missing my dark hair again.
So, this is the decision most women face as they age. Cover the gray, or gracefully segue into a head full of grays? What is it to be? Well, I've made my decision and I'm sticking with it. When the silver upstarts begin to gather on my temples, I feel it ages my appearance way beyond what I'm ready for. As I said, it makes me look tired. It does not make me feel pretty.
My paternal grandmother continued coloring her hair, as far as I know, until she died. And she always looked younger than her years, although I'm sure that wasn't the only factor.
What about you? Do you cover the grays, or have you gracefully submitted to the effects of time?
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