I wanted to say, but I didn’t. So I am writing it here, “Why is your hair that hideous shade of orange? She came in with hair as white as a blank piece of paper?”
We are at the Beauty College, mom and me. And that weird word, “Beauty College”, should be renamed as “the experimental chemical lab for future stomach and bladder cancer patients”, in my opinion. Which is what they will be if the young ones keep using all these chemicals on their heads.
I just wanted to scream, “Read the research on the chemistry and technology please. This beauty thing, coloring your hair is all for the American woman’s’ ego to fight aging!” Color me perfect is the dream not the reality.
It doesn’t work well in any of the shades of brown with so very many wrinkles. Who are we kidding? The higher power over all of us; that being biology, created a trend-setting world of grey turning white. In addition, that’s a good thing, to follow nature’s cues to the passages of life.
Well the white hair looked good on mom for a few years, and then she said it depressed her. That she wanted to be the apricot blond of her middle years. She would have it back on the top of her head – apricot blond, and that should have lifted her spirits.
Well here it is and we are done with coloring mom’s hair apricot blond here at the Beauty College. I hope someone can tell her that, ‘they love it’. Now, we will be back each month, adding another task to my good-daughter duty list, to service the roots and support the denial of time in the mirror.
Then I reminded mom on the drive home, that it’s a real cut-up and I mean short, when you decide to divorce Lady Clairol and go back to natural white.
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