Saturday, July 16, 2011

Blue. And Pink. And, Unfortunately, Inky, Inky Black.

Having been thrown headfirst into the world of unnatural colors, I'm raising the stakes and I am exploring the wonderful world of Manic Panic hair dye.  Magenta and Electric Blue.
            I'm hopeless at hair, so I had it done in a salon while I was down in Adelaide last month.  
The hairdresser was on board with the stripes, but wanted to darken the rest of my hair as well.
            "It will play off the colors better, and, frankly, the shade you currently wear makes you look rather pasty."
            "You do know that the shade I'm wearing is my natural color, right?"
He sniffed. "It still makes you look pasty."
I shrugged.  "Fine.  But not too dark.  No trainee goths.  No trainee emos.  We're going bright and bubbly here, okay?  No angst."
            He looked horrified and said "No no no!"  and showed me a swatch of a lovely chestnut hue, and we agreed that it was good. 

So how my hair came out a deep inky absolute black  I've got no idea.  But if a hairdresser thought that I looked pasty before  now there's a whole world of people who are willing to agree.  A deep winter pallor on a girl so naturally pale she makes redheads look ruddy does not rock the emo look. 
            The stripes, though  - big bold splashes of deep blue and purple swinging out from underneath the black - the stripes were fantastic.  Beautiful, like a sunset.  But the color washed out in half a week, leaving me looking like Cruella de Ville between color treatments, or like a rather emotionally depressive skunk.
            The online store I ordered replacement color from turned out to be a scam, and by the time I'd worked it out and gone elsewhere, elsewhere was out of stock.  After several very boring etceteras two jars of Directions Hair Dye arrived in my mailbox early this week. This morning I had a friend paint the stripes back into my hair and I left it to bake for the requisite number of hours. And frankly, I can't stand it.

The black has faded to a faintly more flattering shade and the stripes look spiffing.   However, while the color-setting with vinegar over the bathtub amused Mr Tabubil no end (even while he was complaining that the bathroom smelled like a fish and chips shop) the rinsing with cold water took forever and was, in a nutshell, cold.
            Really really cold.
            Mr Tabubil turned the hot water up far enough that I wouldn't get chilblains on my ears and repaired to the heated living room and left me to it. I've decided that  this color thing is very much a summer pursuit. More pertinently - I've established that I'm not nearly high maintenance enough to keep this up.  This dye really doesn’t last very long, and I'm a hair-wash-every-day sort of girl, or we're talking permanent and unbecoming bed-head. 
            In summer I could happily rock a whole-head treatment every couple of weeks, but these stripes need a full day  and a whole bottle of vinegar, and not to put too fine a point on it, we're about to embark on a very long holiday where I won't have the option.  And I'm damned if I'll spend the holiday looking like a Disney cartoon.  
            I've just been sent some photos of last week's cuttlefish dive, and with the wind blowing I look about ready to skin a whole coat's worth of puppies.  So I have a plan.  (Mr Tabubil has the sniggers, but that's his problem.)  I am going to go back to the hair salon and have my whole head dyed auburn with a dye that will last.

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