And I'm a red head.
Well, sort of.
You see, my natural hair color is not exactly what you'd classify as 'interesting'.
More accurate adjectives include 'boring', 'bland' and 'similar to wheat covered in mud'.
This is my natural color:
(this is also what I look like when Joshua forgets to take my scissors away during finals week, when I have a habit of chopping off all my hair).
I hate my natural color.
Which is why I dye it.
For those who have never dyed their hair, it's a long and exhausting process.
Starting with the moment you notice those tell-tale roots.
Step One: Picking Out Your Color
This step is guaranteed to fail, because you can never tell what color you're getting.
First of all, the color names are completely unhelpful.
Like Crayola, hair dye companies have decided that women are too stupid to buy something named 'Brown' and 'Slightly darker brown'.
Instead, they think we want names like "Chesnut in Fall' or 'Temptress' or 'Summer Breeze' or 'Light shining through stained glass near a cabin on the lake, while dolphins frolic near by with otters'.
That doesn't tell me anything about the color. That tells me people who name these things are psychotic, or probably literature majors (or both).
Secondly, the pictures of attractive models with flowing locks of pure silk plastered on the front of every box serve only to distract you from the color inside. You end up buying the color with the prettiest model on the front, only to get home and realize that you actually didn't want 'Sunset Gold' at all.
And, finally, the color will never look like the box. Ever.
That is an ugly fact you just have to accept, women. It will always be two shades too dark or two shades too light, or actually turn your hair purple.
Life with it.
Step Two: Inventory
In any given box of hair dye, you'll get the following items:
Many, many tiny bottles of smelly liquid.
Shampoo and conditioner.
A big bottle you're supposed to use to mix all those tiny bottles of smelly liquid.
Gloves.
And incomprehensible instructions (I assume. I never actually read the instructions. Instructions are for people with no sense of adventure).
Which leads us to...
Step Three: Fucking it up
You will fuck it up.
And it will be your fault.
Just pray you notice your fuck up before you put the dye on your hair.
Step Four: Picking Out Your Color... Again
Step Five: Properly Mixing The Chemicals
Step Six: Covering Your Head in Chemicals
Step Seven: Waiting
Step Eight: Waiting...
Step Nine: More Waiting...
Step Ten: Washing it all out
This is my favorite part, because my dye comes off as bright red, and it makes me look and feel like the prom scene in Carrie.
I often reenact this scene in my shower.
Don't judge me.
And, finally,
Step Eleven: Realizing that you Missed a Huge Section of Hair
No comments:
Post a Comment