The Pink Hair Chronicles: The Fade

Wednesday was the first day that I washed my hair.  For those that are counting, yes, four full days.  That’s pretty typical for me, because after I bleach my hair I want to give my scalp time to recuperate before I add insult to injury.  This time there was the extra added fear of the fade.  I had been warned that everything from my pillow to my shower might be covered in some shade of pink. So far, all I’ve seen is a little pink in the lather of my shampoo.  I am still very worried about what time will bring for this color.  Pink is one thing, peach is a whole other story. 

Overall, people’s responses have been very positive.  As a matter of fact, I’ve heard a whole lot of “I love your hair!”  I tend to get that a lot, I’ve found since having my hair short that most women covet but always claim “I could never wear it”.  But, the pink has added a new dimension.  Getting stopped at dinner, at Chuck E Cheese, even the TSA agent said “nice breast cancer hair”.  I have to admit, that one was pretty unsettling.  Nice breast cancer hair. 

 

This is the current shade.  It's a pretty pastel so I'm thankful that the fade has been to the pink side and not to the peach side.  You can't see it here, but I still have parts that are really pink. It's twenty days in though, and I'm starting to get used to the look.  Make no mistake though, it will be coming out very soon.  It's been a great experience for me, but I'm ready to just be blonde again. 

 

 

 

The Pink Hair Chronicles: the first few days

Sunday I stayed pretty close to home.  The neighbors noticed and asked if I had pink eyebrows too (she was across the street).  No, I don’t.  That’s too much!  Nolan and I had a couple errands to run, but this being Halloween season I didn’t get too many weird looks.  One little boy did say to his mom “Mom, why is that ladies’ hair pink?”  I didn’t stay to hear her explanation.

Monday, I went to pick up Nolan at school.  I was able to explain it to a big bunch of parents, which reduced the number of times I had to repeat it.  The young girls were elated.  One proclaimed “I want pink hair, it’s my dream hair” emphasis on dream J

Tuesday was a big day for me. I had a very important introductory meeting with a leader at a healthcare organization and I was very nervous about the hair.  As it turns out, she didn’t care.  When I asked her if she wanted an explanation she said ‘it’s not necessary’.  Perhaps I just don’t give people enough credit.  I’ve hidden my tattoos for years thinking that people would look at them and make judgments about me; maybe it was my perception of myself that has been skewed all these years. 

During pick-up at Nolan’s school a woman that barely ever talks to me normally told me that not only was she a breast cancer survivor but a thyroid cancer survivor.  It occurred to me how deep some of the stories are that we carry.  I’m learning a lot about people as a result of this and I think that’s pretty cool.

Pink

As promised, yesterday I dyed my hair pink.  I'm not going to lie to you, I've always wanted pink hair.  But, like Botox (another story) wanting pink hair and actually having pink hair is a different thing.  I'm good for my word though.  So, my story in pictures:

Just getting ready in the morning.  Can you see the apprehension?  Yeah, I was a little nervous.  I spent a good chunk of the week searching make-up tips for pink hair. Turns out there aren't a lot that are appropriate for a (nearly 40-year old) professional.  That was my first clue.

This isn't apprehension.  It's terror, boredom, not sure.  The process started off as it normally does, with applying bleach to my hair.  My stylist (shout out to Michelle at JCP salon in Burnsville) was nervous because she had never used this hair color before and she wasn't sure how well it would work. 

First application. It seemed to be going really well, at first...

With a head of pink hair dye, this is where it goes a little off the rails.  When they went to rinse me my roots (the healthiest part of my head) were orange, like ORANGE.  Michelle got so nervous at one point she actually said that she was afraid she was going to throw up on my head.  (She didn't).  After a consult of what felt like at least half the stylists in the salon a second application was put on the roots and I was put in the dryer.  The result?

At home, after about an hour and some food.  It took four hours (yes, 4) to get my head pink.  It looks good in the picture.  In person, the hair that's white (about 25% of my hair is completely white) is magenta, my roots are light pink and the rest is sort of a rosy pink.  It actually looks like we did that on purpose.  Of course we did.  Totally.

 

It will be rinsed out on 10/30 in prep for my trip to Vegas.  I don't have enough balls to ACTUALLY be a 40-year old with pink hair.  I am no Gwen Stefani.  But, I'm proud I did it.  I will blog about the reactions I get as I travel around for work and tell my sister's story.  There's still time to donate, just go here. 

 

On that note...please think before you pink. I'm all for raising money and awareness for this disease, but buying plastic pink bracelets or using pink garbage cans does very little for a cause that you're concerned about.  Just donate to well-run, respected organizations, that's what will help win the fight.