Is the color of many things –love, sex, my old living room, my favorite dress and shoes. Red is a lovely color to live by. It communicates sassiness, strength, and something mildly saucy and mysterious.
Red (ZING!!) is also now ever so literally the color of my hair.
When I met my hubs to discuss the critical state of the hair situation, he raised an interesting question.
Why is it that someone who might easily be termed "assertive" has trouble telling her beloved hairdresser that she hates her hair? Why can’t she communicate that she’s not pleased to look like Ronald, when really what she wanted was to look like Brigitte Bardot, or at the very least Fergie AFTER Weight Watchers?
My whiny retort "But I LOVE Patrick! He’s the only good hairdresser I’ve found since Dominic quit to do hair shows around the globe…" sounded false even to my ears.
My daughter said it best. "Mommy I don’t want you to look like that with your hair. You scare me."
I want the saucy, without the literal sauce.
Sigh. Don’t we all.