Just Call me Iris
When I was growing up, my grandmother had a cousin, who for some reason we called Aunt Lou. Aunt Lou had white hair which she wore in ‘marcel’ waves. Sometimes her white hair had a little tint of blue to it. You know ‘old lady blue hair’. I was, of course, fascinated by this. Even though Aunt Lou was on my mother’s side of the family, she did not have ‘Gudgel’ hair. My mother had ‘Gudgel’ hair. I have cousins that have it. My brother has it. I have it. ‘Gudgel’ hair is baby fine, which thins out as you get older but never really turns completely grey. Couldn’t get my father’s wonderful Italian hair, lots of it, that turned a nice salt and pepper and then white. Noooo, I got ‘Gudgel’ hair. Can you tell that I dislike my hair?
Anyway, a while back I stopped having my hair colored to let it grow out and see if maybe, just maybe there would be a lot of grey or white. (I was only coloring my hair to give more of a sense of volume, “Chiaroscuro (English pronunciation: /kiˌɑːrəˈskjʊəroʊ/; Italian: [ˌkjaroˈskuːro]; Italian for light-dark) in art is the use of strong contrasts between light and dark, usually bold contrasts affecting a whole composition.” (thanks wikipedia)) But no such luck. Only a bit of white around the edges. Not enough to give any sense of volume.
In December, my hair dresser (Fabrizia at Idea Donna Di Fabrizia, she’s on Facebook) and I decided to try adding a bit of blue to it. Ohhhhh, I thought, my chance for old lady blue hair. Well, it didn’t turn out well. Kind looked like a black dye job gone bad. Just wasn’t what I hoped for. So I went through this fantasy period of thinking that I would just let my hair grow and kind pile all the length on top of my head and be done with it. That didn’t last. I finally realized that I would be totally miserable trying to grow my hair. It would just take too long and while trying to grow it out I would be forced to use a hair dryer and stand winding it around a brush and all that. Didn’t want to do that. I made an appointment with Fabrizia.
‘What are we going to do Martha?’ Fabrizia asked when I arrived. She knew that I was not happy about the blue/black failed experiment. ‘I just got a new line of color!’ she offered. We decided on a color.
So as we approach May and my 65th birthday, can you tell that I don’t intend to age gracefully? Heck no, I’m going kicking and screaming down that slippery slope with my hands in the air and purple hair!