A few years ago I took the plunge and started coloring my hair. As you probably know, once that starts, it's tough to go back. After lots of experimenting, for the past year at least, I had settled upon just getting some highlights that were the color of what my hair would look like after time in the sun at age 16. Or more accurately, the fake version of that. Sometimes this would turn out a little more blonde than I anticipated, but I liked that my grey was well concealed, my hair brightened and so did my complexion, and I could go much longer between trips to the salon.
Within the past week I went to the salon for a trim and highlights.I have been contemplating Robin Wright's House of Cards look last season - oh I cannot wait until February for season 2! - but I chickened out. Not feeling it I guess. I've done short hair before and it is a bold move. So to counteract that I decided that maybe it was time to tone down the blonde; January is not a time of year when one is out in the sun acquiring natural highlights, right? I asked for lowlights only.
Which pretty much turned out the color of my natural hair right before I started coloring it. Maybe a little richer. My hair had gone pretty flat.
I feel a littler...plainer? More serious? Whatever. It looks natural, and I assume my natural hair color complements my skin tone. Molly said she liked it. Jeff didn't notice. He said he thought it was just wet. I was not surprised.
Then Anna noticed.
"Mom, did you get your hair darker?"
I braced for an ,"I don't like it!" Anna notoriously despises change.
"Yes, I did. What do you think?" I dared to ask.
"Oh I love it!" she gushed. "It looks so nice!" But she did not stop there. "You look more like my mom. I didn't like it so much blonde. It was like (I cannot describe the face she made. Are you familiar with Miranda? Yeah, only teenagers who spend hours online are. I have one of those. That's how I know. Anyway - like Miranda) 'oooh I gotta work -see ya!'" and she kind of strutted and flipped her hair. "Especially when it was straight and blonde. It was like 'I'm so cool!"
"AN-NA! Be quiet - that is so rude!" This is Molly, appalled and butting in.
I was giggling. "Really? That's how I acted?"
"Well, not really. It's just that you looked more like, fan-cy (dripping with 3rd grade mockery). You know, like you were ready to work and stuff. Not like my good old mom who likes to go hiking."
That was not an exact replica of the conversation. That's what I remember best. There was lots more Anna going on about how I looked with blonde hair and Molly shushing her. But you get the idea.
The whole conversation amused and intrigued me. Amused, for obvious reasons. Intrigued because it is always surprising to discover what I look like from my child's perspective. In Anna's formative years, Jeff was in grad school and I was pretty granola. It's more cost effective that the "oooh I gotta work-see ya!" look. My hair was darker and we did a lot of hiking. Maybe that's comforting to Anna. Maybe highlights represent career me and when that started up, the hiking declined.
While I guess it's nice that my third grader feels more comforted by my current hair color, I have a lurking suspicion that "mom hair" is waaaay too much like "mom jeans." And I must clarify: I had neither mom hair or mom jeans in the granola years.
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