I’ve had some interesting reactions to my hair since I’ve been back, from “pretty colour” to “sexy” to “youthful” to “I like it!” and silence!
“I thought that was Madonna walking through the door,” said a perky fellow at church on Sunday. The first time I’d been back to my place of worship since returning from England.
I bit my tongue, not wanting to be caught in a fib at church but also enjoying the illusion that perhaps I had gone completely crazy and cut and dyed my hair! I smiled and said,
“Madonna? What would Madonna be doing in church?”
One of my son’s friends said,
“Ms.McNeny…” yes we go back to the co-op days of our homeschool when my friend’s two boys called me Ms. McNeny and my children called her “Susan!” The title and formality has stuck after fourteen years!
Anyway,
“Ms. McNeny, I must say I really, really like your hair! It’s very attractive…”
“Why thank you!” I said, flattered that a young man had the courage to compliment his former English and Economics teacher!
I hope I look modern.
One of my daughter’s friends said,
“Wow!”
and commented to Malia later,
“Your Mum is so much more outspoken since you’ve come back from England!”
Malia agreed,
“You are more ‘out there’ Mum, your hair has changed you! For the better!”
I feel more confident, she’s right! More ballsie, if I can say that?! More brassy!
A close friend loved my new look! I owned up to it being au naturel,
“Really! I didn’t know you coloured your hair!” she said.
Aw shucks and I thought every white regrowth screamed for attention! Now I don’t have to worry.
But I am beginning to suspect others may think I do!
I was described at Jazzercise this week as,
“Tall, slim, blonde…”
Blonde?! Me!?
I look at my hair in the back,
an encounter that has to be pre-meditated as it is hardly an accidental sighting.
I can see darkness, steel grey under the white. It looks lovely and I can’t wait for the colour in front to grow out.
It’s definitely not blonde from behind.
I said to hubs,
“Perhaps people are in denial about my hair and what being naturally white reveals about my age…”
Although I did start losing my deep auburn colour at twenty!
“They have already decided I look forty something and presume I have simply gone mad and joined the youthful, haute couture, London crowd in the platinum rage!” I continued.
The ‘blonde’ they’re seeing is the remains of the highlights I had put in to help defray the skunk affect my roots were having on my head!
“As a result of their pre-conceived perception of me, the darkness in the back is nothing more ominous than root re-growth!” I finished triumphantly!
Which happens a lot with bleached out white/platinum hair.
They are seeing what they want to see!
Malia observed,
“I loved your long hair and didn’t want you to cut it…but then your bob looked really good. Then I didn’t want you to have a boy cut, but now you have I’m glad you don’t have your hair anymore! No hair really suits you!”
And what does that mean exactly?
No matter what I do with my hair I still look bloody fantastic?
Even in the same pink t-shirt!
Ooops! I’m still in minimalist mode until all my extra clothes either arrive from England or I pick them up from Lindale!
My oldest film maker son told me he saw a photo of a colleague who had bleached her hair bright blonde and it looked terrible…so hair can ruin a person’s prettifulness.
I am fortunate to have a very talented hairdresser, a friend in London who encouraged me with good ideas and a husband who supported whatever I chose to do with my locks.
On seeing us his mother said,
“Well, look at the two of you with your white hair!”
“White hair?” said hubs, “maybe it’s time you passed me the L’Oreal!”
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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