I Just About Dyed


This is the picture that started it all; orange striped, sun and salt ravaged hair. I didn’t realize how bad it really was until I saw this snap, I knew it was time to take measures into my own hands.

Every time I had gone to the salon to get my hair done it was mix a little of this with a little of that, slather it on and wait until the fumes either make you gag or pass out, wash it out and voila, a new you. Trying to find a jar lifter at Wal-mart the other day, I veered off course to the hair care product aisle. Clairol’s Perfect 10 in #4 Dark Brown looked as good as any so I took a chance. I even processed my roots longer than the strands, just like the finger snapping you-go-girl “Misch-El-lay” did seven months ago. Never once have I considered a career in hair dressing so I don’t know what possessed me to be one yesterday. My ego whispered, “You can handle that.”

In the time between getting Devin off to school and rustling D.J. and Maddy to rise and shine, I broke the seal, shook it up, and said a final good-bye to my Tony the Tiger do. I left the house with wet hair; I knew that it was dark.

Black on Black

OH – MY – GOSH!!! I think I’m going Goth!

It was black, as black as the dark side of the moon except for my roots, they were still brownish. I hit the mental panic button; visions of me with raunchy tats, multiple and painfully infected piercings and a new pale boyfriend who named himself Barnabas the Bloody on the back of his pieced-out, “hot” hog; saddlebags and thighs flapping in the wind as we tore up the asphalt.

I called my younger, infinitely cooler friend and begged her to take care of Miss Is so I could go get myself some emergency treatment, hoping for a magic ‘Razzle Dazzle’ to undo the do that I did.

I walked up to the counter noticing that if anybody there had hair color “problems” it wasn’t me. The quintet of girls running the desk could not find my appointment despite the fact that I had called a little over an hour ago.

One older girl (40-ish) asked, “Are you one of the models?”

Was there someone standing behind me? I couldn’t help but laugh, “That’s the first and the last time I think anybody would ask me that. No, I just made an appointment at – ” I checked the dialed list on my cell, “10:23”.

Multiple appointment logs in front of them and yet still no luck. I took the initiative and boldly peered over the counter, “There I am, that’s my phone number, but my name isn’t… whatever that says.”

So they took me back, sandwiched between two very senior gals getting their weekly set and asked what I’d like to do today. That was a loaded question. It’s like saying to a surgeon, “I thought I’d try the home-appendectomy kit and something just went pop and gushed.” I’m not saying that doing hair is equivalent, just that the end result would be the same… Not a good idea.

The cure for my accidental goth was worse than my mistake. Bleach and dye all over again with the warning that it could all break off. It became a question of being bald or being Morticia, I’ll take the morbid mermaid dress thanks.

Not to waste time or the appointment, I got a cut. Thoughts of razored, asymmetrical bobs skirted my courage but after letting Ms. Ego loose, who got me into this mess in the first place, I whimpered “Long layers, two inches off the bottom.”

Snip here, snip there, still fretting my non-matching roots. “Did you hear that?” My dresser asked.


“I really like your color.” It was the stylist setting a perm just behind me. “It looks wonderful. Gorgeous color, Honey.”

Okay. I just got a compliment from someone wearing show-girl strength, metallic green and yellow eye shadow, severely plucked eyebrows, copper-toned A-line bob and a five o’clock shadow by noon. “Thanks.”

I have nothing to worry about.

Stacey hair 2


  1. nevertheless said...

    I love it! It is really cute. A change is always nice. Too bad for me I am scared silly of change so I have never had the nerve to do it.

  2. Tia said...

    It is all perfect!! The music, the background, the hair - I love it all!!

  3. Emma said...

    Wow! Your eyes look way blue in that last pic!Lookin' good!=)

    Oh by the way, how in the heck did you do that?the header i mean?


  4. ...for all eternity. said...

    You're too funny. I learned the hard way too. It always turns out darker than the bottle! Too bad about not actually having that awsome boyfriend and hog though!

  5. Connie said...

    While I've never actually been "into" the goth look, as a matter of fact, I loathe it, it does look rather fetching on you. You did notice on my blog logo and on the left the various colors I've been, right, chickee!!! Blonde bomber!! LOL Well, now I am "blonde" because of the gray....well, okay, I admit, not BLONDE, but lighter anyway!! Hah

    YesssssssssssSSSSSS, I did get the last one on craigslist!! It's in fantastic shape structurally but does need a coat of tender pink care. ;-) That will happen after the room gets painted......probably next week if the man is available. BUT look at the post on saturday to see what I did yesterday.....Squeeeeealllllll!!!! Eeeeek!!!!!!!!!

    Truly, I do like the "DO", miss momma of Is chick.......


  6. TammyP said...

    I like it A LOT!!! I don't think it looks GOTH at all. You need to pound on white powder make-up and THICK BLACK eyeliner. I think it looks GREAT!!! I bet Dave liked it ;)

  7. young family said...

    I like it too, of course if you wear all black and change your makeup you might be a little scary ;) Maybe for Halloween :)

    I say keep the hair color it makes your eyes look amazing!!