Dear Gray Hair,
As you’re new to the neighborhood of my scalp, I thought it might be best to explain some of the ground rules of living atop my head. Before I begin, please note that this in no way relates to your color. In fact, my first five or six years were spent as a blonde. Then my hair began to darken into the brown-with-a-hint-of-red that I have maintained for over 30 years. In other words, this is not my first time to experience a change in the seasons on my pumpkin-sized head, so don’t go calling the ACLU.
Decades ago when my hair transitioned from blonde to brown, the basic structure of my hair did not change. At all. Yet since your slow arrival over the past year, I’ve found your texture – a wiry, defying gravity sort of general fuck you to any attempt at styling my hair – to be a bit…argumentative. So far there are only a handful of you living on my head (that I can see, anyway), but even in your small numbers you are creating chaos.
For instance, yesterday I had to kill off one of your number because the lone, silver hair came down from my scalp, landed square in the middle of the left lens of my glasses and then went straight out at a 90-degree angle. How? Why? I have no idea. But it was distracting as hell – I kept thinking I’d walked into a spider web. I tried brushing the hair back, pulling it off to the side, putting a dab of lotion on my finger so I could affix it to more well-behaved hair. Nothing worked. So I pulled that bitch out, in direct contradiction to my earlier promise to neither color nor physically remove these new arrivals.
In the interest of keeping the peace, let’s make an agreement. You can move in, in as many numbers as you wish. I will not forcibly cut, pluck or color any of you as long as you agree to quit making me look like the nutty professor. If you cannot agree to these terms, I can’t promise you any sort of protection. I’m not going to walk around with crazy lady hair that randomly pokes me in the eye. Not only is it literally irritating my eyes, it also causes me to have twitchy eye things going on in addition to the crazy hair stuff. Though it’s inevitable I’ll end up crazy and twitchy if I’m lucky enough to live that long, I don’t want to prematurely enter that phase.
I’ve got my eye on you (literally),