For ten years, I dyed my hair nearly every imaginable colour. Starting when I was thirteen and yearned to be a feisty redhead, to my high school graduation whereupon I sported streaks of pink and purple, to the post-college long, blonde years.
Then, when I was 23, I decided to stop. Cold turkey. Put down some roots, if you will.
During my trim last week, I felt an itch to do something new. I told my hairdresser I trusted him and wanted something “bold, but not so bold as to get me fired.”