So many mental health alerts that I am losing track of them. But here’s one for you, albeit a minor one. An essay in Slate that I just happened upon bears the lofty title, “I’m Gonna Keep That Gray–My decision to stay silver.” And my response is, “So, is there more to the story? What’s the punchline?” Basically, who cares if you decide to keep your silver hair or dye it.
But believe it or not, there seems to be some movement (similar to the Mommy wars in its scope) about the joys and perils of gray hair. Do I or don’t I. Should I defend my right to be gray? Is it now politically incorrect to admit that gray hair makes me look 20 years older than I am and I despise it? Or that I look like I just finished a round of chemotherapy because the absence of color (read gray or white) has drained every speck of color from my face? Should I stand up and declare that gray hair is beautiful and defy convention and wear it proudly?
And so on. Really stupid if you ask me, but reading stuff about gray vs. hair coloring is enough to make me cringe. Bottom line–there is absolutely nothing that will make you look older, or age you faster, than gray hair. It ages you, and people can rant and rave all they want about the “beauty” of gray, or aging gracefully, or how they “worked hard” for that gray, and so on, but at the end of the day (or in this case the rant) it makes you look old.
The next bottom line. If you don’t want to dye your gray, then don’t. I don’t care and neither does most of the world. If you want to dye it and get rid of the gray, then do so. Again, I don’t care and neither do the homeless drunks outside of my window, who are making their way up to Queen Anne Avenue as I type.
So why are people, ie women, writing about this stupidest of subjects? Why is anyone publishing this and turning it into an issue in the vein of Mommy wars and celeb drivel?
Here’s the Slate slobber:
For women like me who wear their premature gray proudly, this represents progress. I should know. I’ve been an involuntary participant in my own little field experiment for years now.
Consider this typical encounter: While straining to hear an anesthesiologist explain how my mother’s cancer surgery would proceed a few years ago, I felt an urgent tap on my shoulder. The surgical nurse, swathed in blue scrubs and cap, leaned toward me. “How old are you?” she demanded. “Forty-six,” I whispered back, assuming she was asking for an official hospital reason. “Why?”
She was staring at my hair, which is long, straight, and mostly silver—a flamboyant, just-shy-of-Emmylou Harris shade that I inherited from my late father.
The nurse pulled back her cap to reveal a thick crown of salt-and-pepper tresses. “My mother and sister think I’m crazy, but I won’t dye it!” she said, beaming as if she’d found a new best friend.
She wears her prematurely gray hair proudly….uh, what is there to be proud of? That you turned gray prematurely? Is gray pride going to be the next hot thing on the horizon? Will we be seeing gray pride parades (as opposed to gay pride)?
In fact, a few months ago I was thumbing through some magazine on an airplane (someone had abandoned it in my seat pocket) and there was an article devoted to a women who decided to let her hair grow gray! I kid you not. This was an oddysey of allowing her hair to grow in au naturel, and to throw away the dye.
The stupidity does leave one breathless. Can an article be more boring and more mundane? Hey lady, you don’t want to do the Clairol thing anymore, then don’t. Go gray, more power to you.
I didn’t read it, just skimmed, and there was this whole whiny self-reflective mumbo jumob about the GREAT DECISION to allow the gray to grow in, and the suspense as the roots took hold and multiplied…are women’s magazines really that hard up for writers and subject matter?
Anyway, the clincher were the before and after pictures. I know, we were supposed to look at the after picture and say, “Ooooo, how much better you look. Why, you look like a real woman now.” And even the poses and facial expression were designed to try to convince the audience that the natural woman was so much better. The woman with dyed hair had a stupid smile on her face, and was in a non-descript pose, while the new gray woman was photographed from a three-quarter angle, and was standing straight and tall like a fearless leader.
Sorry, it didn’t work. Not only did she let her gray grow in, but she also cut her hair into a short, matronly chin length hair-do that made her look even older. But hey, that’s what the experts tell you is age appropriate.
Overall, she looked like she’d aged about 15 years. I am impressed. I’m sure that this story will convince millions of women the world over to cut their hair and love their gray.