I color my hair about once or twice a year. I basically give it a shinier, jazzed-up version of the color it already is. And I do it because I have unbelievably baby-fine hair. So fine that it hangs limply from my scalp and makes me look like Gollum in the Lord of the Rings without any products on it. And that’s just scary.
I’ve noticed that my hair, which is long overdue for a color-job, is much more wiry lately. Poofier. Stiffer. Like it has actual volume. At first I wanted to credit the dusty bottle of hairspray I found in the back of my cabinet when my regular kind ran out two weeks ago. But when we traveled this weekend and I got some time with my hair in a better-lit bathroom, I realized I cannot deny that the gray patches that were sprouting around my temple must have invited some friends over from the back of my head too. Because they are spreading. And I have gray now EVERYwhere.
And I’m pretty sure that’s what is making my hair less “drippy” (as my son calls it.)
So for that I am thankful.