Horse Hockey and Hair Dye

Well. That was a crazy time, wasn’t it? Welcome to 2013.

Our family holidays began a bit late and continued into last week, so that’s where I’ve been. And it was a little odd at times. For one thing, I fulfilled a lifelong promise to myself from back when I was still in high school: To dye my hair sometime when I got older. I’ve never been very good at liking myself the way I am, so actually liking the hair God gave me was always a refreshing break from the usual.

It’s just that I knew the day would come, someday, when I might not feel that way anymore. And also, I always wanted to be a redhead. I believe one should accessorize to one’s temperament and personality.

The spanner in the works is that I’ve become very sensitive to chemicals. I was before, but now? I warn you, weird things happen. So, although my hair is no longer as thick or soft or non-grey as it was twenty years ago, I have put off changing it. That is because I have a personal policy against turning myself into a green mutant with purple warts.

Enter the henna.

I can’t remember what got me onto looking at natural dye methods, but I asked a few friends who’ve used it, and long story short –

Well, okay. It kind of is a long story.

Step 1: I recruited the individual known as “I Can Never Remember if I’m the Good Sister or the Evil Sister,” or just “Sis” for short. If you have a sister who will help you dye your hair, I recommend checking first on her Evil League of Evil membership status. Or at least, ask her and see if she remembers. If it’s one of those addenda that often slips her mind, you’re probably safe.

Step 2: I mixed the henna. It’s like this: Henna gives off a smell like dried alfalfa hay. When mixed with water, as the dye begins to activate, it becomes more like the smell of alfalfa that’s been recycled through a horse.

And it kind of looks that way too. So.

Step 3: Sis had a great time smearing my head with what looks and smells like horse poo. That took about half an hour, during which the kids just had to keep walking past in order to make comments about horse dung, especially since I couldn’t exactly go soap their mouths right at the moment. Carpe diem, and all.

Actually my sister was over to begin Season 2 of our ongoing Buffy the Vampire Slayer Marathon, so she was really being very patient to do this first. At least, I thought it was very cool of her.

So I said, “I have the best sister in the world. She puts this weird goo in my hair.”

And she said, “I have the best sister in the world! She lets me put horse poo in her hair!!”

So then we were like, “Yay! Best sisters evah!”

But we decided not to do a pinky-swear, under the circumstances. Hands, henna, horse-poo-like side effects, you know how it is.

Step 4: Then it took like four Buffy episodes for the colour to set, so I got to sit there with a plastic bag over my head (exactly the fate my mother always feared for me).

Step 5 but in a totally non-chronological sense: Part of the Top Secret Plan is to coat one’s hairline and ears with Vaseline in order to keep any henna stain off the skin. So when my husband phoned, that didn’t go very well. I didn’t think about it when I answered, and afterward, it kind of looked like a snail had answered the phone with its foot.

Meanwhile, I was telling my husband, “If you find a glass bowl in the freezer filled with what looks like horse poo, don’t panic, please. That’s my leftover hair treatment.”

My sister pumped her fists in the air. “Horse poo!!!”

I got an email from her the next day, asking when we’re doing that again, because she’d really like to put horse poo all over her sister’s head again sometime. So I’m pretty sure she’s the evil one of the pair. Although, truth told, I can never remember either.

Best sisters evah!!!

~Scienda

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2 thoughts on “Horse Hockey and Hair Dye

  1. I have to admit that, although most of the women in my family are redheads, I was born blonde. So in my twenties, when I had had enough of being treated like an idiot ALL the time simply because of my hair color, I dyed my hair red (the first time with henna). I went through all of this torture of chemical assault as a sociological experiment. What were the results? It was like night and day. All of a sudden random people of both sexes treated me as if I had a brain. Why? I ask you! I was the same person with the same social awkwardness and foot-in-mouth disease who had the same penchant for living in my obscure head-land. One would think having red hair wouldn’t change others’ perceptions of my austistic behavior patterns. Oh, well. I hope you, too, enjoy being a redhead.

    • That is nuts. I’ve heard people say that about being blonde. Since I have two blonde daughters, hopefully it doesn’t turn out to be an issue for them, but I’ve always wondered whether it will.

      Since my hair’s fairly dark, I’m now an auburn-head, and I’m liking it very much so far. Mild red highlights are natural to my family, but mine faded over the years.

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