On Going Grey, But I'm Not Done Yet

One of the effects of the pandemic lockdowns is that many women have decided to allow their hair to go grey.

I arrived at that decision myself earlier this year, tired of being a slave to my roots every six weeks. Going grey is fashionable now, even with celebrities like Andie Macdowell, who played the bipolar mother in the Netflix series, Maid. Andie’s mass of wild, untamed silvery grey curls are magnificent.

And look at Jane Fonda. Sure, she’s had a bit of help with nips and tucks, but the woman is 83, she can do anything she wants to do. She looks marvelous, and not ‘just for her age.’

My mother was a beautiful woman (my dad often said she resembled Queen Elizabeth).

My mother at her 93rd birthday party. Two months later she died, unexpectedly but peacefully

She coloured her hair right into her seventies, when she then decided to go grey. At first I was against it. Selfishly, I suppose. I liked having a youthful looking mother. But the silvery grey suited her. She had lovely skin, swearing by Ponds Cold cream which is the only face cream she ever used, slathering it on daily. She was always a well-dressed lady. In her last few years at the retirement home, she put on her pearls, earrings and lipstick every day. No schlepping around in track suits for her. I can’t say the same about myself. Sweatpants and leggings are my go-to around the house.

Earlier this week I visited my hairdresser. Even going grey needs a bit of assistance, some highlights to help it all blend in. I sat in the chair and submitted into the capable hands of my hairdresser. Three hours later I emerged from the salon, somewhat dissatisfied. I had allowed my stylist to make the decisions. He was the artist, I was merely the canvas.

But the highlights were overdone and I left thinking I looked too ‘blonde-ish’, when what I really desired was a salt-and-pepper look (like Andie). It’s the first time I’ve been disappointed with the maestro. Of course, I said nothing, nodding my approval at the results.

My hair looks blonde!!

Women are like that, putty in their stylist’s hands. Hoping the blonde will darken in a few months, I will return to him, because I still believe in his skills. And yes, I want to look good, even while going grey.

Because women are relentlessly inundated with the message that youthful looks are essential to commanding respect. I’ve bought into that kool-aid, along with much of my generation. But I'm not done yet. I'm not done yet.

My hope, though, is that the younger generation will change this, rejecting once and for all the notion that a woman’s appeal is closely tied up with her youthful appearance.

NOT DONE YET

By Ann Klein & Mary Lee Kortes

So much is gone

So much remains

I plant new trees

To drink new rains

While much is taken

Much is left

Inside this heart