A couple of months ago, I started thinking about changing my hair color. I'd never bothered with it because I didn't want to hassle with having to maintain a fake hair color, but I found myself digging obviously fake hair color--the hair color that often has glaringly dark-color roots attached to it. The trouble was, I started mentioning to others that I was thinking of going blonde. (A grungy, white-blonde with eventual roots, that was gonna be my game.) And once I had told enough people, it became a put-up-or-shut up situation and there I was making an appointment to actually have it done. Of course, the closer it came to the appointment, I found myself appreciating my lovely brunette hair more. "But it's such a nice brown," people would say. What am I doing, I thought? I took a day off work for the affair and here it is documented for you lovely folks.
OG me. More like, oh shit me.
After the first bleaching. My hair went comic-book-villainess yellow.
Which was also sort of cool, but we pushed on. Kitty, my stylist, moved back her next appointment. We were gonna make a day of this. It was blonde or bust!
Here I am with bleach round #2. It didn't burn or itch as much as I thought it would. Guess I've got a pretty resilient scalp. After this second bleach, Kitty did a toner and... my hair turned a beautiful... SALMON color. (It was straight up Frenchy/beauty school drop out.) It actually was pretty cool, but I didn't want to start my hair color escapades with pink hair. (I might get there eventually.)
So she toned it again and here was the end result:
I really really like the color, though for the first week I kept thinking, "who put that stupid blonde wig on my head?"
I don't know if I'm actually having more fun yet, but experiments are underway so I'll keep you posted if the theory holds.
