"Suffer for Fashion."
We've all heard that phrase before. And although I have always prided myself in being a low maintenance woman from the standpoint of my appearance, I think I may have been deluding myself all these years. Because I stand here before you today with a Hair Injury.
Went to get my hair done. I fluxtuate between getting it dyed and then not getting it dyed for long stretches of time, until my natural ash brown comes in with strands of gray, a stark, skunk-like contrast to the reddish brown every hair color seems to turn on me. When I was RVing around the country and couldn't care less about my appearance - which is different from low maintanance - I hardly even noticed the motley mess on my head.
But whenever I'm around other people in a professional setting, I suddenly get paranoid that I look frumpy and unprofessional with my long hair and old color job. Oh, I also pride myself in not giving a damn what other people think, but I think that, too, is a sad delusion.
So what do I do to feel better? I go get my hair dyed. Of course, I had a perfect excuse. I was asked to participate in a photo shoot for the new marketing campaign for Alaska Public Television, and the shots were going to be very close up - face and head. That kind of scrutiny warrants new hair color, right?
Well, I went to a highly recommended place and explained what I needed. Then the hair dresser began applying the dye.
It burned.
"It's burning," I said.
"What?!" she asked, not as if she was horrified that it was burning me but she seemed shocked that the word 'burn' was being used in the salon.
"Burning. It's burning my scalp."
"Do you mean burning burning or tingling?"
I had to think a moment. Was this a scalp tingle or a burn?
"Burning," I said tentatively because suddenly I was doubting what I was feeling because she seemed to be so surprised by it. Hadn't hair dye ever burned anyone's scalp before?
"This has never happened before," she said, then offered to wash the dye out. Of course, she also mentioned that it hadn't been in long enough to process so we "wouldn't get the color we want."
Was I being a wimp? Was I being hysterical? I mean, this is a hair salon for God's sake. I'm sure they don't go around burning heads.
I decided to wait it out, burning scalp and all. I held my breath, let it out slowly, closed my eyes, rolled my eyes back into my head, praying the burning would dissipate. It didn't.
"It really is burning," I said again. She brought the owner over to discuss.
"This has probably happened before but it's like, one in a million. I don't personally know anyone it has ever happened to," she said, then she asked "Do you mean burning burning or tingling? I know it definitely tingles when it goes on."
"No, this is burning. This has happened once before," I explained, and told the story of the most highly recommended hairdresser in Laramie Wyoming and how the dye there burned my scalp as well. "My scalp skin was peeling off in big pieces for a week after," I told them.
They looked at one another, reiterated that the color hadn't set yet, but they left it up to me.
I was embarrassed. The last time my scalp was burning from the hair dye, the hair dresser in Wyoming dismissed it and said "Oh, that's how it is supposed to feel," and I felt like an idiot.
This time, my hair dresser's eyes grew more concerned as she watched me wring my hands until they were white with tension and my eyes fluttered and rolled as I tried to endure the pain in the most quiet, least obvious manner.
"Let's rinse it off," she said, and I obediently followed her to the sink. The moment the water hit my scalp, I felt instant, blessed relief. Of course, then she used a shampoo that she said was excellent because it "makes your scalp tingle." It burned, but I knew this whole painful ordeal would be over soon.
My hair turned out great. Lighter than we had discussed but with subtle and natural highlights. I was pleased and decided to put the Burning Scalp Incident behind me.
But two days later, I have scabs across my scalp. Lots of them. I can run my fingers through my hair and across my scalp and feel crusty bumps of dried, healing flesh. My hair still looks great, but I have Scab Head.
I want to go back to the salon and have the hair dresser run her fingers over my scabs to feel them, to show her that I wasn't exaggerating when I said the dye was burning me. But then I think "What good is that going to do?" What will I gain by forcing them to look at my scabs? And whose fault was this? My own because I tried to wait it out and didn't insist that they rinse my scalp immediately? Theirs for not rinsing immediately regardless of my hesitations?
I have to take responsibility for any injuries sustained during a vanity moment. I wanted a more even hair color and got injured in the process. I think it is a risk we all take when we go against what Mother Nature intended for us and pump and primp our bodies with chemicals. At some point, something is bound to backfire on us, and then we literally Suffer for Fashion.
So today, I'm a Fashion Martyr.