The Root of the Problem.......

When I am passed a compliment it is accepted graciously. However, when it is from a person whom I admire, my spirits seem to overreact.  Helen is one of those people. Recently Helen returned from France stating that I looked very French.  "Ah…savoir-faire at last" I thought.....but not for long!  

My husband received his best hair cut here in Provence.

A fortnight ago, despite being on a 2 week break from work , I was unavailable to the world because I had a grey halo and Marc, my colourist, was fully booked out .….for 10 days! Only Marc is allowed to colour my hair. My suffering at the hands of  “professional colourists” in trying to achieve the “sun kissed” look is similar to that caused by bad cutters, but not as prolonged. There appears to be a problem with the porosity and proteins of my locks to which a number of colourists cannot adjust. I have been temporarily (very temporarily) orangutan orange, jet black, flamingo pink and white- blonde à la Marylyn Munro…… Hours of my life wasted in the hairdresser's chair with accompanying dangerously high, cortisol levels!

Then there was the episode of having litres of milk poured on my scalp. The colourist, Paul, forgot to set the timer, so he left me dozing with chemicals in my hair until I was woken by a fierce burning sensation. I had been brewing for an additional hour while he pranced around his salon gossiping with his celebrity clients.  When Paul sighted my burnt scalp the salon suddenly resembled an ants nest with all the worker ants focused on drenching my head with milk.  I was most unimpressed, as was my scalp. It took weeks for it to heal and, “to add insult to injury” the resulting colour was indescribable!  

So to grey or not to grey seems to be my perennial question.  Going au natural - what ever that may be – is very tempting. Grey and white hair can be so elegant and flattering if one has the appropriate skin tone and texture. But for the pale, and pasty brigade, of which I am one, grey hair can be aging.

The trouble with my grey hair is that its growth is erratic. As soon as a wisp of the grey sees some daylight, it sprouts forth at a frenetic pace, with profound social implications if my colourist is unavailable! 

After "fluffing about" at home and having to cancel some social engagements during my 2 weeks of holidays, I've decided that life is too short to be in self-imposed exile waiting for an appointment to have the “roots done”. And my hair is too unpredictable to make a booking chez le coiffeur, weeks ahead…So perhaps I’ve answered my own question…... But have I got the courage?