#50 Dye my hair pink.
I used to subscribe to the theory, “it’s only hair.”
You see, I was never afraid to do something dramatic to my mousy blonde locks. I’ve had cuts of all lengths, chopped it all off, let it grow ridiculously long, tried bangs, tried bobs. I’ve dyed it almost every color imaginable. In college I dyed my hair purple, and green, and orange, and magenta. And then there was that time, a few years after college, when I decided to dye my hair black and while it is ridiculously hard to go back from it, I did, going for 11 more colors over the course of the next year.
“It’s only hair,” I’d say, “it will grow back.”
And then, I stopped. My hair was so overly processed that it wasn’t feeling healthy and I wanted to start over, start fresh, get it back to its natural state. And I got lazy and cheap and would never go for haircuts. And then I started traveling and adopted an extremely low maintenance lifestyle. I mean it’s hard enough to remember to brush my teeth while traveling the world, I can’t be expected to do anything to my hair other than throw it in a ponytail. So I just let it grow, and grow.
My hair went from being one of my favorite creative outlets to being long and limp and boring.
Every so often I would dream of dying it red again, like I did in my last years of college and beyond. In my humble opinion (and my obsession growing up with My So Called Life) I could rock red hair. Plus, as a redhead I totally got told all the time that I look like Kirsten Dunst. Actually, really, I got told that I look like “that girl from Spiderman.” Which was kind of an ego boost. I mean, I think is a compliment, right?
But then there was pink.
If you can’t tell from my lovely little website here I am kind of obsessed with the color pink.
I always regretted the fact that I never dyed my mane pink during my rainbow hair stage of life. In college I actually bought a bottle of Flamingo Manic Panic but, for whatever reason, never got around to using it. After 10 years I finally busted it out last Halloween, but it did nothing. And I was a sad panda.
Some time ago I added dye my hair pink to my life list. But I wasn’t sure if I’d actually ever do it. I mean, I’m 32. Am I still allowed to have candy colored hair? Or am I too old for that kind of stuff?
And then there is a fact that I was working. And I couldn’t imagine having pink hair at the opera.
Even traveling though, I put it off. I thought about going for it time and time again but always held myself back. What if I didn’t like it? What if people stared?
But it was there. On my life list. And I wanted to knock it off before I went back to the real world again. Before I might never have the chance again.
A lot of people knock bucket lists and life lists, but to me, I need one. I always have a million excuses not to do something but my life list gives me one big excuse for doing something.
And so when I knew I was going to be back in Chicago for two weeks, when I knew I still had a few months of travel left in me, I called up my favorite salon and booked an appointment.
I didn’t want a hack DIY job like I did in college. I didn’t want to have to scrub down Heather’s bathroom with bleach all day like I had to do in the dorm bathrooms. I wanted it to it like an adult who just happens to want pink hair.
And, believe me, I wasn’t the only adult who wants pink hair. In the salon that day, as my darling stylist Nicholas bleached my tresses then applied the pink dye, I had one of the tamest hairstyles around.
And I left the salon day, in my humble opinion, rocking some amazing pink hair. And wondering why the hell I waited so long.
Dye my hair pink was number 50 on my life list.