Do I dye my hair? Some people look at me and say, “I don’t see any grey”. Well, it’s in there. I see it. It’s camoflaged. And, there’s more and more of it all the time. Lately, my hairdresser (an excellent colorist) has only been highlighting (not lowlighting) my locks. She no longer does an undercolor and the highlights are the lightest they’ve ever been. My hair looks almost platinum at times, and it’s not from bleach. I’m super blond.
I’m pretty happy with it. Saves me trips to the salon and gives me a good idea what I would look like if I decided to bite the bullet and go flow blown grey. I’m not there yet-as I think my hair would be more of a mousy brown with a lot of greyish streaks. Who knows if I’ll change my mind though. Time will tell.
I think it’s pretty obvious, to me anyway, that I dye my hair — or have it done. I never lie about it. Which brings me to my point…
How much do I lie — about other things. Little white lies, or semi-truths. Especially when it’s age related.
I used to get carded. (Who doesn’t?) Well, that never happens any more. I also used to get told the my oldest daughter and I look like sisters. I still get that occasionally, only now I think they’re just being polite…after all, I’m pushing twice her age-approaching septuagenarian territory. Yikes!
We people-women and men-like compliments. I’m not immune to flattery in the least. I worry about becoming invisible. When people address me as “Ma’am”, I cringe. I don’t mind “Miss”, although I’m certainly no longer one.
Ageism is definitely a thing. American culture is a youth driven one. I’m hoping that’s changing. I see steps in that direction — which is a good thing.
“Vanity, thy name is woman!” A quote attributed to Shakespeare, is actually a misquote. Hamlet’s line actually reads, “Frailty, the name is woman”.
I think I worry more about the frailty part than the vanity part. I like the way I look, to be honest. And, I also notice my aches and pains more these days. Yet, I‘m fortunate to be driven to work out at least every other day, to move it and not lose it, as the saying goes. I credit my dancer training for that-and am thankful for it. It wards off debility and depression as well.
I plan to stay flexible — in every sense of the word — well into my nineties if the fates allow.
And, thats no lie.