Should’ve listened to mum…
It was mum’s 83rd birthday recently. That’s her, in the photo, looking not 83. And hardly a sliver of silver in sight.
It’s always been a great source of irritation to mum when people don’t believe she doesn’t dye her hair (and never has done). Yup, those lovely, glossy, black locks are totally and utterly natural (and always have been).
‘I wish you wouldn’t put that muck in your hair’, she’s been saying to me ever since I first started putting that muck in my hair. She just couldn’t understand why I’d want to paste a load of chemicals onto my head. ‘You’ve got lovely, shiny brown hair, why don’t you leave it alone?’
I kind of wish I had. I’m not sure what it was that made me want to dye my hair in the first place. To brighten it up? For a change? To go with the flow? To find the colour that suited me best?
I look back now, trying to remember why and I don’t have the answer. It was just something that most of my pals did. So I did too. And once I’d started, it felt too much like hard work to stop. Sounds kind of silly when I say it like that, but that’s how it was.
I’m thinking about all the money and time mum saved and I spent. Tsk.
Ah well, better late than never to take her advice on board and ditch the dye.
I’m not sure, however, how many more years it’ll take till I look quite as neat, tidy and immaculately coiffured as my gorgeous wee mum….
