I finally found the perfect hair color. It’s a pale, almost peachy pink. It’s Millennial Pink, actually. I love it. I cycled through deep, rich purple-pink, fuchsia, an unfortunate moment with screaming neon pink I couldn’t get off my head fast enough, and a deeper salmon-pink before I settled on the color I’m hoping I can magically maintain. (Those of you with unnatural hair colors feel my pain here. They look amazing for…oh, about 3 days, then they fade or change or the roots start coming in and…. Cue another biweekly trip to Sally’s for more bleach, toner, and dye.)
For a long time I was committed to blue---deep, rich, impossible navy blue touched with electric blue that glowed in the sun. On the best days (after a $200+ trip to the hairdresser) it looked like an ancient sea that foamed around my face, lacking only the sparkle of diamond stars. I have a picture of myself, with my hair curling into my face as I turn my head, only my smile visible, and the bright, deep blue looks exactly like the image I had in my head: a 1960’s comic book heroine with blue-black (but mostly blue)
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I started lightening up my hair over the next year as the blue faded out, and got trimmed off over the months, because I have about 75% white hair now (thanks Mom and Dad, for those genes that mean I’m going white before 40….way before.)
I took it up to a shade I alternately called “Doris Day” and “Lemon Chiffon”—a bright, pretty citrus yellow---that happened to be the perfect base shade for unnatural colors, like magenta, flamingo, ruby, and purple.
I had a fling with purple for about 6 months, and then I started dating my now-boyfriend. He loved the purple but he mentioned that he loved the idea of pale pink, so much so that he’d pay for a professional to achieve the Instagram-friendly color.
A long time do it yourself-er with hair I often compare to “the mane of a horse”, I decided to go for it without spending the dosh on a five hour session in the hairdresser’s chair.
Several experiments (see opening paragraph) later:
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I love it. And I couldn’t figure out why I had resisted it for so long—it fit me so perfectly I feel like it could be growing out of my head naturally.
So why did I feel like pink hair was for someone else…anyone else but me?
Washed out salmon pink is the color of the moment, with think pieces and anti-think pieces, all debating the meaning of a certain tint. The color is appealing—light, peaceful, minimalist, hip. It seemed at once annoyingly everywhere and completely out of reach.
Like many people, I associate pink with a kind of performative femininity, 1950’s makeup and sheer tulle petticoats, with a wash of Tangee Lipstick. A kind of softness, sweetness, and girliness that just isn’t me. Bright neon pink seemed too young for over-30 me, and while I saw lots of younger women totally rocking it, it was a “lewk” with a capital L, something I felt required chunky boots, artsy black clothing, and serious eyeliner at all times. Not for me, someone whose style inspiration is “1970’s art film director on set in Morocco”.
So why am I telling you, gentle reader, to investigate pink?
It’s got history, which NYMag details delightfully. It evokes the ice cream rims of the 1950’s, the cool curves of the Art Deco 1930’s, even the flash of a velvet lining in an opera cloak or a fashionable waistcoat of a 1900’s dandy.
It’s gender neutral, and damned if it doesn’t flatter you men!
It’s a statement in the best possible way. Don’t let your preconceived notions about what pink is stop you. Think pink.