Sunday, April 5, 2009

I'm no gray haired lady

My hair is only gray in pictures, never in my mirror. I don't know why that is, but I can clearly see some highlights of gray when I look in the mirror, but never a whole head of gray hair.

I do, however, wear the colors lavender and rose, though usually not in the same shirt. One day some years ago I approached the checkout counter at Daytons (you can see how long ago that must have been) with two blouses in these colors. A gray haired older woman was standing there and commented, "Oh those are such good colors with our gray hair." "Our gray hair"? I chuckled as I drove home. This was either a defining moment or an effect of the store lighting. I never did look quite the same under department store lighting.

I suspect the reason I look so gray in photos also has to do with the lighting. Take a picture in the bright sunlight, and the gray hair shines so brightly that it simply overpowers the other, more abundant, shades of color in my hair.

You may suggest that I could just color out the gray with a rinse. You see the ads all the time for men to color their gray, and if men can do it, surely we can too. Unfortunately, that would lead me into another difficult spot. I am, as of this writing, still putting off a haircut that I have needed since early to mid March. It is now April. How much worse might I look if I were coloring my hair and put it off for weeks at a time? It doesn't bear thinking about, really.

I've decided the best solution to this problem is for my friends to simply accept that I am not gray, except for a few enhancing hightlights mixed with my normal hair, and for me to try to stay out of the sunlight - at least when there is a camera around.


  1. Odd, but my problem is the exact opposite of yours. In person I have begun to have a fair about of silver threads among the gold. Well not exactly gold, but to say brown just isn't as poetic. There was a time I would become quite irate when I was carded at the state store. Now I simply leap over the counter and kiss the checkout person for having mistaken me for someone much younger. Age is a funny thing. It's ok until you start "looking your age". It was only a few years ago, while in my forties, when I quite enjoyed it when some one would say, " I would never have guessed you are in your forties. Surely you must be joking". Not any more. Maybe it's the pressure of my responsibilities as the only priest in my parish? I am certain that I age at least five years every Holy Week. In fact, just Palm Sunday so did me in yesterday and I had to come home, have two shots of vodka and sleep until 5:30. So now I am far more reluctant to offer that little piece of information called "age", particularly after my birthday last week. As they brought out the cake, my sister and I made a joke or two about how young we both still look, where upon my oldest niece volunteered, "Gee Aunt Lisa, you really ARE beginning to look your age. I wonder if my church insurance would cover a face lift?

  2. That's not a fair analogy - Don't ask me why.