Confession: I’m going gray. I’m genetically doomed—my father ‘s hair has been more salt than pepper since I was born when he was 31 years old, and my mother’s gray hair has been going incognito under brunette hair dye for years.
Strangely enough, my gray hairs are contained to a smallish spot on the crown of my head. Indeed, I am growing a skunk stripe. Soon Cookie and I will be known around town as Raccoon Tail Dog and Skunk Head Girl.
So far I have accepted the gray hair without much resistance. It’s easy to ignore on the back of my head. Sometimes, though, the light will catch a gray hair just right and I’ll swear it’s taunting me. The grays have staked their claim on my thick dark mane, and my brown hairs are fighting a losing battle against wiry white ones. I’ve always felt pretty attached to my hair color—it’s been this color since I was born with hair long enough to cover the tops of my ears. This hostile takeover situation on my head is creating a stark contrast between youth and maturity.
Last week I happened upon a gorgeous photo spread by David Sims in Vogue’s August issue featuring the striking and elegant Kristen McMenamy. And just as soon as I caught sight of her gorgeous gray hair, I accepted mine. Look!
Images via Absinthrill.
Kristen McMenamy is impossibly chic, no? Mark my words, my long thick hair will look like hers in ten years.
Until then, I’ll be teasing my younger brothers for having more gray hair than I do (my 21-year-old brother’s hair is particularly “festive” on holidays). Ha!