Last week I saw Jason for highlights. Instead of posting about the usually euphoric experience of becoming blonder after enduring three and a half weeks of roots, I posted about Dan who died. But today, while applying mascara I realized: there is an entire chunk of my hair that is blonder than blonde:
See it? Right there in the front?
Usually Jason does a toner rinse for me, but last Wednesday, he decided to bring the whole of my head up a notch. "How blonde do you want to be, Kitty?" he asked.
"What do you think?" I said. The guantlet was thrown.
10 minutes later, Jason was rushing me from the chair to the shampoo bowl: "It's turning grey, Kitty, go! Over to the shampoo bowl! NOW!" I threw the January issue of Shape on the floor and ran. It could rest there in a pile of hair for now. Who really cares what my "happy weight" is, anyway?
Fortunately, the almost grey spot stopped at blonde. But if you look closely, you'll see: it's a little blonde-grey. Here it is again:
The moral of the story: ladies, beware. Blonde hair = bleach + hues of purple & blue to off-set brassiness & orange. In short, when you really go for it with peroxide, grey is just minutes away.
Proceed with caution.