I was never interested in coloring my hair. At first, I received numerous compliments for having hair that was essentially one beautiful dark brown shade. But then as styles changed, stylists offered to put streaks in my (to them, very boring) dark brown hair. “No thank you,” said I.
Then my hair started to go grey. As with my family — and I suspect most people — it started at my temples and spread. Immediately, stylists began with the “Oh, my goodness, let’s color this hair, so it’s not grey.” “Why,” I wondered. “You were tired of its being one-colored, so now my temples are a beautiful feathery grey turning white.”
“Humph!” was the stylists’ reply.
But somewhere around 65, I began to think I might like to dye my hair cherry red — or at least a couple locks. Unsurprisingly, I procrastinated, because… it was easier to leave things the way they are. It had taken me 65 years to perfect the art of doing nothing but cuts, ignoring the latest color fashions.
After I retired from ministry, I thought, huh… maybe I’d like my hair to be purple. Cherry red is a favorite color, but for me, Purple connotes Peace. It took about a year to get the right color, but now my hair is a dark purple and I get it done every month. Not because it’s grey — simply because! It’s short and perky and fun. And I like my hairdresser.
As an added bonus, when they look for me in the Trauma Bay, it’s easy to find me.
Nonetheless, it does require tending. And while I love being a styling kinda woman… mostly I’d rather spend my time on decisions on Life and Poetry…
So I’ve been thinking… since my hair is short, it would only take a time or two and I’d be back to a much greyer self. I even told the stylist, this is the last time. After that, I didn’t give it a second thought, because… why? A couple bad months of multicolored purple and grey, which are swimming months anyway… and I’ll be back to my natural hair.
My 19-year-old great nephew was up from New Orleans for the Family Funeral in Maine last week. He was hanging out, chatting with me — all right, I offered to buy him ice cream, and we bonded over the mango sorbetto — but he says, “hey, love your hair.” “yeah, I’m thinking of going back to my natural color.” “what??? No, bad idea, this is great.” Huh. Well, that was something to consider. If a 19yo music producer thinks your purple hair is cool… I mean… as a friend used to say in seminary, “shallow can be nice!”
So I was then on the fence about it. And then I got on the train to go home after the Memorial. Finding a seat was horrible as two trains had been cancelled due to the heat. Having taken whatever seat was available, I fortunately settled down next to this fabulous gay guy from NY. He produces dance and music events for the queer community in NYC.
We had a fascinating conversation about arts as community building. I explained my work as Peacemaker and how music, dance, and lights could be Peacemaking! Couldn’t stop blabbing. It was so fun to engage with him.
Somewhere a bit down the line, he looks at me and says, “you know you’re really rocking it with that plum (PURPLE!) hair and those red glasses. It’s fabulous.” (!!!Wow!!!) I told him I’d been thinking about letting it go back to grey. “Gurl! NO! … Oh, I’m sorry, you should have your hair however you want it. Why on earth would you ever do such a thing?”
It fostered a great conversation. I admitted that I knew it made me easy to pick out in the Trauma Bay, so the Team could know I was doing what I needed to be doing. And there is something about my age, that doesn’t have people challenging me quite as much as they might about my appearance.
So, guess who’s not letting her hair go grey. I’ll giving my stylist a call. If two hip, kinda with it young men suggest that you’re the bees knees… why make changes?
Purple it is.
It seems purple hair suits Investigative Poets— or at least this one! What suits you and your Peacemaking? It’s fun to consider!
Wishing you all Purple-haired Peace!
P.S. when i went to say good night to a young woman who had been in an awful accident that afternoon, she grabbed my arm and said, “Wait: I LOVE your purple hair!” Keepin’ it!