Hair

I read an article in Elle or Vogue magazine a while back about a woman who did a little experiment, going from bleach blonde to chestnut brown. Her conclusion was that blonde is not just a hair colour, it’s a whole way of being.

Well, I wouldn’t go that far. But things like hair colour, height, skin colour and even nose shape alter the way other perceive us. Hair colour is one of those changeable things, and even if it does seem juvenile and girly, the difference in how you are received by other people is noticeable. But where is the line between how you have subconsciously reacted to the change and how others have? The first time I went brunette I loved it, even if it was a little more black and green than anything else. I dyed it myself again, counteracting the green tints with elements of red, and I felt it was all tickety-boo. This brunette regime lasted about 10 months, and by the end of it I had lost all my self-confidence. It was odd, people had started treating me with new levels of seriousness which did not sit well with me. I got ignored and interrupted a lot as well. NOT good. Obviously other factors in my life had thrown me into a bit of a dark spiral, but I cannot help remembering the amount of people who thought it was inoffensive to say “oh what have you done that for? I preferred it blonde.”

I did change back to blonde…somehow it just seemed to boost my personality, but I can never get over how some people don’t seem to mind offending you straight to your face, with no tact. Admittedly, it tends to be friends of the parents or family members. Just a few weeks ago my cousin glared at my cartilage piercing and said “urgh it’s disgusting.” Obviously I thwacked him one. To openly look at someone, to judge a physical change, a choice they’ve made, and call it disgusting? I would say, that is not good etiquette.

Today I went to the hair salon to get my roots done, and I was told low lights would be a good idea. 12 hours later? My hair is greeny brown. And suddenly all those insecurities from 2 years ago come flooding back. I feel like a mouse wending my way around millions of elephant’s feet, insignificant, ugly and unimportant. But how, in the space of 12 hours, has a hair colour altered me from a confident, over outspoken lass into this? I guess it has to do with how we perceive ourselves as well. For example, I look in the mirror and see my nose piercing, and I like what it says about me. I liked what my blonde straggly hair said about me. What exactly these things told the world, I’m not really sure, but it’s the way I’m received by the world that tells me this outward impression can’t be too horrifying.

I’ll go back to the salon tomorrow I think, and hopefully they can fix their fifty quid mistake. But the moral of this story is if you finally get to that point where you are happy with the way things are don’t change a thing. Why fix something that isn’t broken? Why replace something that still works? Tell that to my 6 year old and sadly deadened Motorola flip phone.

It seems cliché to encourage self-adoration, to do that stereotypical grin into the mirror every morning. That’s just ridiculous. Everyone has stuff they dislike about themselves, and that’s okay as long is it doesn’t mock you too heartily. What I’m saying sounds obvious, but just don’t change the good bits! And that means the bits that are good in your opinion. Ignore others, your mistakes are yours to make.

You will always care how the world sees you. But fears and insecurities are just emotions. Fear itself, cannot harm you.

(This is the part when you roll your eyes and say “No shit Sherlock.”)