Purple Haze? Jimmy Hendrix I Am Not!
As I was brushing my hair, I noticed I had quite a few gray hairs, not to mention my hair was looking a little dull. These complaints are all part of the aging process. I'm 52, and I'm not ready to go gracefully gray. My friend Char, has gorgeous silver/white hair, fine and shiny. Mine, are dull, course gray hairs, that stick out like crazy corkscrews.
For over 31 years, I have been a licensed hair stylist. I specialized in colours and highlights. Colouring hair, even mine, is like breathing. There is no thinking, just doing.
After staying up all night watching the election, I was exhausted. I wanted to go to bed, but I felt a chill, so I decided a nice warm bath would be in order before closing my eyes. I figured I would kill two birds with one stone, and colour my hair before having a bath. I applied the colour and climbed in the hot steaming tub. "Awwwee this is wonderful." I said to myself. I yelled at my son to set the timer for thirty minutes.
While waiting, I rubbed coconut oil all over my face. It feels great and it doesn't bother my skin. I rubbed it all over my face, and, down my neck. I also exfoliated my skin with a coconut salt scrub. My skin felt clean and soft.
I heard the timer begin to beep, so after pulling the plug, I stood up and rinsed my hair and body. My hair and skin both felt silky and I was nice and warm. I wrapped my hair in a towel and wrapped my robe around me and went to my bedroom. I pulled on some fresh pajamas from my dresser, and brushed my hair.
All I had left to do was hang up my towel, and brush my teeth, then I could crawl into bed. After I hung up my towel, I opened up the medicine cabinet and pulled out my tooth brush, squeezing toothpaste on top. I stuck it in my mouth, and began cleaning my teeth, and as I did, I caught my reflection in the mirror. "I really need to put a brighter bulb in here, the shadows are awful." I thought. I finished brushing my teeth and rinsed my mouth, turning my face, checking my hairline for any missed grays. I was happy, and the grays were covered.
I could see, I had some serious dark circles under my eyes, deciding I really needed sleep. "Wait a minute, those are not circles from lack of sleep, they're colour stains!" I began turning my face in different directions and noticed to my horror I had stains in perfect concentric circles around both eyes, up both sides of my nose, up around my forehead, down the sides of my face, around my mouth, and finally ended under my chin.
Hair colour, stains, because of the peroxide it's mixed with. That is the principle of hair colour. Each colour has a base colour, which mixed with other hues, contributes to a particular colour. It is the base colour that stains the hair and skin. My colour, had a violet base colour.
I had deep violet streaks all over my face. I looked like an Indian warrior! I reminded myself that the term Indian, is a derogatory term. "Who cares! Now is not the time to think about being politically correct, I do look like an Indian! A deranged Indian! "Fan-fuc*-ing-tastic!" While rubbing the coconut oil on my face, I obviously inadvertently pulled some hair colour from my hairline, and distributed it all over my face.
I know from experience that colour removes colour. That's why a stylist rubs all around your hairline before rinsing your hair, it's to remove colour stains from your face. It's highly effective. Except, I have no colour left. I had to improvise.
I ran downstairs to my salon, and squirted some peroxide on some cotton and frantically began rubbing my face. It wasn't working. It was only making my face red, and, where it dripped, my face had white drip marks from the peroxide. Yes, peroxide will do that. I looked a sight now.
The white streaks would fade, but my purple eyebrows and moustache was not! "Well, it is November." I said to myself, trying to make light, in spite of looking like I was in a Picasso painting. "You're not a man! Focus!" I was right. I needed to get a grip.
"Now what?" I could here my friend Char, saying sarcastically, "That's why I don't colour my hair." " Shut up Char!" I said, still trying to rub off the violet stain. I knew if my husband saw me, I would hear "Blah, blah, blah...I told you not to colour your hair!" My husband always says "don't, so naturally, I do. I would be forced to admit he was right, and, once again...I was an idiot. I hate that.
After thirty minutes, and some more coconut oil, and a scrubby pad, I managed to remove all of the stains. "Well, now my face has been exfoliated too." I muttered under my breath.
My face was sore, my hair looked great, my bathroom sink looked like it went 10 rounds with a purple plum, and lost. There were varying shades of purple drips all over it, purple stained cotton balls laying in waste, and peroxide everywhere, I was exhausted. "So much for going to bed early." I grumbled as I cleaned up my sink
Finally, I crawled between the sheets, getting comfortable, wondering outloud, "Why do I always have such sh*t luck?" as I pulled the blankets up. "I'm sure I will never know."
For over 31 years, I have been a licensed hair stylist. I specialized in colours and highlights. Colouring hair, even mine, is like breathing. There is no thinking, just doing.
After staying up all night watching the election, I was exhausted. I wanted to go to bed, but I felt a chill, so I decided a nice warm bath would be in order before closing my eyes. I figured I would kill two birds with one stone, and colour my hair before having a bath. I applied the colour and climbed in the hot steaming tub. "Awwwee this is wonderful." I said to myself. I yelled at my son to set the timer for thirty minutes.
While waiting, I rubbed coconut oil all over my face. It feels great and it doesn't bother my skin. I rubbed it all over my face, and, down my neck. I also exfoliated my skin with a coconut salt scrub. My skin felt clean and soft.
I heard the timer begin to beep, so after pulling the plug, I stood up and rinsed my hair and body. My hair and skin both felt silky and I was nice and warm. I wrapped my hair in a towel and wrapped my robe around me and went to my bedroom. I pulled on some fresh pajamas from my dresser, and brushed my hair.
All I had left to do was hang up my towel, and brush my teeth, then I could crawl into bed. After I hung up my towel, I opened up the medicine cabinet and pulled out my tooth brush, squeezing toothpaste on top. I stuck it in my mouth, and began cleaning my teeth, and as I did, I caught my reflection in the mirror. "I really need to put a brighter bulb in here, the shadows are awful." I thought. I finished brushing my teeth and rinsed my mouth, turning my face, checking my hairline for any missed grays. I was happy, and the grays were covered.
I could see, I had some serious dark circles under my eyes, deciding I really needed sleep. "Wait a minute, those are not circles from lack of sleep, they're colour stains!" I began turning my face in different directions and noticed to my horror I had stains in perfect concentric circles around both eyes, up both sides of my nose, up around my forehead, down the sides of my face, around my mouth, and finally ended under my chin.
Hair colour, stains, because of the peroxide it's mixed with. That is the principle of hair colour. Each colour has a base colour, which mixed with other hues, contributes to a particular colour. It is the base colour that stains the hair and skin. My colour, had a violet base colour.
I had deep violet streaks all over my face. I looked like an Indian warrior! I reminded myself that the term Indian, is a derogatory term. "Who cares! Now is not the time to think about being politically correct, I do look like an Indian! A deranged Indian! "Fan-fuc*-ing-tastic!" While rubbing the coconut oil on my face, I obviously inadvertently pulled some hair colour from my hairline, and distributed it all over my face.
I know from experience that colour removes colour. That's why a stylist rubs all around your hairline before rinsing your hair, it's to remove colour stains from your face. It's highly effective. Except, I have no colour left. I had to improvise.
I ran downstairs to my salon, and squirted some peroxide on some cotton and frantically began rubbing my face. It wasn't working. It was only making my face red, and, where it dripped, my face had white drip marks from the peroxide. Yes, peroxide will do that. I looked a sight now.
The white streaks would fade, but my purple eyebrows and moustache was not! "Well, it is November." I said to myself, trying to make light, in spite of looking like I was in a Picasso painting. "You're not a man! Focus!" I was right. I needed to get a grip.
"Now what?" I could here my friend Char, saying sarcastically, "That's why I don't colour my hair." " Shut up Char!" I said, still trying to rub off the violet stain. I knew if my husband saw me, I would hear "Blah, blah, blah...I told you not to colour your hair!" My husband always says "don't, so naturally, I do. I would be forced to admit he was right, and, once again...I was an idiot. I hate that.
After thirty minutes, and some more coconut oil, and a scrubby pad, I managed to remove all of the stains. "Well, now my face has been exfoliated too." I muttered under my breath.
My face was sore, my hair looked great, my bathroom sink looked like it went 10 rounds with a purple plum, and lost. There were varying shades of purple drips all over it, purple stained cotton balls laying in waste, and peroxide everywhere, I was exhausted. "So much for going to bed early." I grumbled as I cleaned up my sink
Finally, I crawled between the sheets, getting comfortable, wondering outloud, "Why do I always have such sh*t luck?" as I pulled the blankets up. "I'm sure I will never know."
Comments
Post a Comment