To dye or not to dye? The joys of premature grey

I started going grey at 21, and there's no sign of it slowing down.

I started going grey at 21. I’m not kidding. I remember the day like it was yesterday. I was a senior in college. One morning I was putting on makeup and trying to make my hair look somewhat presentable for class. Ty was in the bathroom too.

“Hold up! Hold still,” he said, sounding alarmed.

“What is it? What’s in my hair?” I said in a panic.

“Just hold still, baby,” Ty repeated, more calmly this time.

Then I felt the pinch of a strand or two of hair being pulled from the top of my head. No way.

“This grey hair was waving at me,” Ty said, holding up the silver hair to the vanity light.

Soon, more and more grey started invading my nearly black, wavy hair. It’s not slowed down.

Both of my parents went grey in their 30s. Now in their early 50s, they both have salt and pepper locks. I’m well on my way to joining the salt and pepper club.

They grey started to become noticeable last year, and with the itch for a new hair color, I went to the salon.

Going to the hair salon always feels weird to me. I always feel like I don’t belong in such a place filled with so many people spending their hard-earned money in hopes of being more attractive.

But here I was, sitting in the chair with all the other suckers forking over their meager earnings for a shot at being more hot.

Three hairdressers surrounded me, all of them with their fingers in my hair, looking into my nearly black locks peppered with silvery strands.

“You’re going to have to do something to cover that grey or they’ll be shiny and pink from that cherry red dye,” one of the hairdressers said. I scowled, hoping no one saw my stank face.

I guess this is where we are, Anna. Welcome to your late 20s.

I left that day feeling better about my hair, but a pit was forming in my stomach. A pit I knew I would be throwing money into month after month if I wanted to keep up this no-grey routine.

If you know me, you’re probably laughing right now. No, my grey isn’t that bad… yet. But I know it’s coming for me. Premature grey is in my genes. My parents, and their parents, went grey early.

As I sat in the chair yesterday, getting my now cherry to black mop (with silver streaks) back to a single color, I watched as Ty got his hair cut in a nearby chair. Three years my senior, there’s not a speck of grey on his head. His sandy brown hair will probably look like that until he’s 50.

Maybe I’m optimistic for him. Maybe I’m just envious.

There are lots of theories about why hair turns grey. Stress, genetics and diet all play a role, researchers say. I’m not really worried about why I’m going grey. I’m mostly sure it’s from genetics.

What worries me is the industry that tells women going grey is unacceptable and tells men that going grey will make your look more intriguing, sophisticated, sexy even. Look at your local news station. Tell me if there are any grey-haired women at the anchor’s desk. What about men?

The broadcast industry’s problematic view of female reporters’ appearances isn’t the subject of this blog, but it’s one of many examples of how we as Americans view aging and our changing bodies.

When I was younger, I used to think I would just let my wavy hair go grey, no matter how crazy I looked. I imagined an older version of myself looking like a hippie goddess with long grey hair down my back.

I had a teacher in elementary school who wore her grey hair in a long bob haircut, not like the short haircuts you typically see on grey-haired women. I thought she looked cool, unique. I wanted to be like that once I went grey. Now that I’m going grey, I feel this urge in me to cover it up—not let anyone know that I indeed am a human, and a woman with premature grey.

Despite all this ranting about the reasons why women color their hair, I’m also in full support of the freedom and self-expression hair dye affords us (including myself).

I love that I can safely change my hair to a lovely cherry coke color. I love it when I see other women with wild and crazy hair colors or women who change their hair color every few months. It’s fun! It’s exciting! There’s a reason why the saying exists “when a woman changes her hair, she changes her life.”

So, uhm, yeah. Those are my complicated thoughts about going grey in my 20s and dyeing my hair.

I want to hear from my other silver foxes. Did you just let it go? Did you keep dyeing it? Are you happy with the choice you made? Any advice for me, an up and coming silver fox?

As always, thank you all for subscribing <3 it means so much for y’all to send me messages or comments about these little blogs.

Keep wandering (through the aisles of Sally’s)

- Anna

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