Gray Matter

Jane: It was a desperate situation: My grays were sprouting everywhere. As I settled into my stylist's chair, I sighed with relief, knowing that soon I'd look like that more youthful version of me.

When I was a child, I watched my mom slather stinky Clairol Number-Whatever on her head, wrap her hair in plastic, and set the timer for 20 minutes. Her routine did nothing to excite me about the prospect of growing older. In fact, I once rather self-righteously told Mom, “I'm going to age naturally.” She simply smiled.

And then, well, I did . . . for a while. But as more youthful coworkers populated my work environment and my product targeted an increasingly younger demographic, I found it surprisingly easy to toss aside that childhood arrogance. I surrendered my hair virginity to the eager, knowing hands of my stylist, and after the initial shock over what I'd done passed, I realized I'd never again be the same. Abstain from the delights of Redken? I had no willpower. I became hooked on that root-covering joy juice, that shade-of-the-month stuff Shelley paints on my head.

But now I'm not working anymore; the perceived pressures that motivated me to transform my gray hair are non-issues. So does narcissism keep me planted in that stylist's chair every six weeks? Or just a healthy desire to look good?

Betsey: I think having great hair gives us ladies a sense of still being “in the game.” Coloring your hair is the single easiest thing you can do to look younger. There’s a woman I see on the train who’s probably my age and looks much older--because her hair is dull grey. Grey hair also has an unattractive, wiry texture and is probably harder to style. I pay a mint to get mine done at a good salon, but I love my colorist and feel it’s worth it, even though the magazines I have to read while I sit with foil on my head are usually pretty crummy.

Jane: Oh, I look forward to reading those tabloid magazines! But Betsey, do you know what your true color is now? I suspect I'm totally gray.

Betsey: I actually have no idea. For years, I was a natural platinum blonde. When I had a kid, it became ashy. Eventually I started doing DYI color, which my daughter insists made my hair look “brown.” Then I put myself in Carli the Colorist’s capable gloved hands, and I sort of revel in the artificiality of it all. Having glimpsed a few “natural” hairs sneaking in, I have a feeling it would be white, which is somewhat unsettling, but the same thing happened to my mother and she now has beautiful silver hair, all hers.

Jane: Interesting! My mom still continues to color her hair a medium chestnut. That's what I used to be . . . I think.

Betsey: Carli told me when you go light blonde and you ARE that way naturally, your hair will still bleach out.

Jane: And as you age, it's more flattering to go with a softer, lighter shade . . . less harsh color to contrast with those crows feet!

I once toyed with the idea of going “natural.” I admire women who boldly gray and stay that way. I find it brave. And color's a luxury in this current economy; if I had to cut it out for financial reasons, I would.

I'm really not high-maintenance. I don't get my nails or eyebrows done, go for facials or Botox, or buy high-end skincare products. So hair coloring is my one indulgence, my one nod to our youth-oriented culture.

Betsey: I always think of Jo March in Little Women and how her luxuriant chestnut tresses were her “one beauty.” I admit, I like my hair.

Jane: So in essence, hair was Jo's one vanity—and ours too? The truth is, I really don't want to look older if I can help it. And this--the coloring--helps it.

But there's another motivation that rises above vanity. After I stopped working, I asked my husband, Rich, if he thought I should go “color commando.” He loves me as I am—extra pounds and all. He never makes demands about how I should dress or style my hair. But to my surprise, he told me he liked the way I looked with colored hair. That settled my gray matter, because I believe it's really important to pay attention to what my spouse says about that kind of thing.

Betsey: True, although I have heard of women whose husbands loved their hair long, so they (the wives) wore it cascading over their shoulders way past the time they should have cut it. But it’s interesting about Fritz, at least--when I ask him “how does this look?” of course he’ll always say “Good,” or something else positive. BUT when he volunteers a comment--ah, then I pay attention. (Although the poor guy: Sometimes if he says, “I like your hair like that,” I snap back, “What, you didn’t like it before?”)

Jane: Ultimately, I think we need to make sure our focus on covering up what's happening on the outside isn't more about covering up something unattractive on the inside. Because in the end, the caliber of our hearts is more important than the color on our heads!

Betsey: I agree, but my heart feels better when my head is freshly colored. And I think that’s okay.

Do you color your grays? Have you ever transitioned from using color to going naturally gray? Do you think it's important for a woman to look as youthful as possible, particularly in the workplace?