Seriously, I just had it. Something adorable my cats did? A ridiculous series of events that lead me to accidentally injure myself? Someone who did something stupid?
No, it wasn’t any of those.
Shit, it’s right on the tip of my tongue! Well, I’m sure it’ll come to me…
Oh, right! I remember!
I dyed my hair neon pink. Yeah, yesterday.
I can’t really tell you why. Maybe it’s because I’m tired of blending in with the crowd. Or maybe it’s because I want my outsides to be as vibrant as I am on the inside. But mostly?
Because I wanted to and I couldn’t think of a reason not to. So I did.
It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while, but it seemed like such an impossible task that I never moved on it. And then I met my hair idol.
Her name is Lisa, she’s from Australia, and she worked with me as the costumer for the ballet company I design lights for. Her daughter had (I say ‘had’ because I can’t guarantee that it’s the same color today) a head of hair so red and fiery that it was almost pink, and her own hair was part neon pink and part platinum blonde. I was instantly both in love with and insanely jealous of both of their heads, and I immediately began grilling them on how they came to be. Over the weeks that we worked together Lisa shared with me many of her tips and secrets for such amazing color, but most importantly, it was Lisa who taught me how much maintenance hair like that requires.
After talking to Lisa, I knew that if I wanted crazy colored hair I was going to have to dye it myself. Even though I have a fantastic stylist who makes fucking magic on my head, I can’t afford to have her maintain my color the way it needs to be while still paying my rent. And after enough articles and tutorials and “how to”s, (gigantic shout out to The Dainty Squid for by far the best, most in-depth tutorial that the internet has to offer,) I felt like this was something I could do. Damnit, it was something I needed to do.
So my friend Christine came over to help me make a mess and we did it.
Ratty towels were spread around the bathroom, I donned an ugly ass button-up that I didn’t mind ruining, (for obvious reasons,) and we were ready to go.
First came the part that scared me the most: bleach. It scared me because this was the one part that I had the potential to fuck up. If I leave the pink in too long it just becomes more pink, which could never be a bad thing. But bleach can really fuck up your hair if you let it. But color won’t do shit without bleaching it first, so it was a necessary step. The amount of itching scared me a little, but I’d read that this is normal so I left it alone. I was also worried about the fact that it took waaaaay longer than I was expecting; Dainty Squid says that she only has to process about 8 minutes or so to get her hair to near-white, but I had to leave it on for 50 minutes and it still didn’t reach anywhere close to white. But in the end it came out alright.
For the record, this picture is nowhere near a true reflection of the actual color. If it had turned out that electric yellow I probably would have just left it because that looks pretty badass. It was actually a very, very light blonde. If my final color was going to be blue or green it wouldn’t have been white enough, but for pink the yellow would be okay.
Before I knew it, I was sitting on the edge of our tub, holding a cup of pink dye while Christine painted my head.
And after that, it was time to wait. And wait. And wait. See, unlike with regular people hair color, blondes and brunettes and redheads, you can’t leave this color in too long. In fact, you’re encouraged to leave it in as long as possible in order to get the crazy bright, saturated color. Some people even wrap their heads in saran wrap and sleep on it. I managed to hold out for six hours before the anticipation became too much to bare and I had to rinse it out.
Fuck yeah! Pink hair!
I love it. I crazy love it. I can’t stop touching it and seeing my hair in the mirror makes me actually wiggle with happiness. I was afraid it wouldn’t look like it belonged on me, like I was wearing a bad wig, but my fears were entirely unfounded. (At least I think so. If you feel otherwise, I’d like to invite you to go fuck yourself. I love it.) I’ve never liked my dishwater-blonde hair, and this color feels more like me than that boring non-color ever did. I want to try on every outfit I own, to see how the colors work with the pink, and I’m absolutely dying to take it out and show friends, family, shit–complete strangers. I’m ready to see how the world feels with hot pink hair.