Going grey

Well. You all went nuts for spots! It has outperformed all my other blogs in terms of views by a clear mile. If I’d have known I’d have written about spots sooner. Perhaps it is time to write an appearance mini-series, also known as The Shallow Chronicles. First spots, now grey hair!
Which I have, in disturbingly increasing quantities. RAPIDLY GREYING HAIR as my hairdresser once referred to it, which sent me running for the nearest off-license faster than the speed of sound to cry into a Gin bottle.
I was quite sure all was well. My Mum started turning grey in her teens, but everyone reassured me that as I take after my Dad’s auburn colouring the grey thing wouldn’t happen. ALL LIES. When I fell pregnant I decided not to colour my hair for a while and I watched as a crop of grey hairs appeared along my hairline. I’ve been colouring my hair for years you see, so I had no idea I was greying. At the age of 27! The double whammy of mousey roots combined with a hint *lots* of grey. And there’s really not a fat lot to be done.
My Mum’s hair is amazing. She is petite and her hair is completely white, styled into a chic little crop, and she is always immaculately dressed. She should really be spending her days in Paris, wearing floor-length gowns and elbow-length gloves, drinking tiny cups of coffee and being fabulous.
I on the other hand appear to be a throwback from the dark ages, when someone in the family had one too many and mated with a giant. I lumber around like a donkey on Valium, struggling to co-ordinate limbs that are just too long for my brain to manage. I trip over thin air. I am not chic and so going grey will not be so easily styled out.
I’m going somewhere with this! Just bear with me before you decide I am a horrible, shallow wretch and disown me. This grey hair of mine is the sign that I am growing older, and as I have aged my life has expanded. I have made firm, lifelong friends. I have studied a subject I adore. I met and married James. We had Blake. We bought our lovely home. So when I do decide to grow up and stop dying my hair bright red (it’s bound to be scaring some of the birds off) I will have to just get on with it and remember that we are all ruled by time. If going grey is one of my body’s ways of marking that, on reflection that is not such a bad thing. And to ease the transition, there is always a hat – for whom amongst us does not love a giant in a Fedora?

dazedandmumfused is on Twitter @dazednmumfused and Instagram: dazedandmumfused

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Going grey

  1. Loved this one Sian, keep rocking the red it always looks fabulous on you. And I believe that you are definitely stylish enough to rock the grey if you want to

  2. I agree with you about your lovely mum bless her but I have never not seen yourself look unstylish, you always wear something lovely along with some kind of jewellery to compliment your outfit. You are slim not that I’m well jel 🙂 What you do have to remember is that you are a mummy and do not have the time or money as someone whose children have already grown up or have no children but you improvise. Talk about grey I swear one grows every night over the past couple of years, I always thought it was nonsense about not pulling them out but I did several times, so I as probably most revert to hair colour. You rock my lady and remember that xx

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s