Aging & The Subtle Art of Giving A Lot of Phucks About It

I wrote a somewhat poignant line in a poem recently -

I prefer my hair turning white than paying into disguise

And I do. For the most part. I’m cool with being prematurely in silver-vixen-territory. But earlier this week, when a bank teller insisted to the point that I must have lost my marbles, along with the pigments from my hair that I was an old aged pensioner I wondered if it was time to hit the Clairol. I just couldn’t for the life of me think which colour would suit? Forever Blonde. Honey Honey Honey. Chesty Chestnut.

I forgave the poor child her mistake as she blushed and tried to back-track by saying that the qualifying age for a Super Gold card was 60. Only. I corrected her again. Thing is, to her it all added up. I hadn’t just breezed in with my freshly washed white hair after my injectables appointment. LOL. Oh no, I’d been stood at the counter for a cool ten minutes, trying to redeem my BonusBonds – the kiwi saving scheme for gambling addicts. Curiously I’d checked their website, I thought I knew what ID I needed. Clearly, I’d overlooked the third requisite. 

Anyhoo, there I was with my undone, white hair. My middle-aged face. My unknotted brow. It was an easy mistake for a young woman to make, (lack of general knowledge for a frontline job aside.) I would struggle to identify a twenty-five-year-old from a thirty-five-year-old in a line-up. But I’m 56, not 65. A cool, nine years of my life was obliterated right before my very eyes. Poof. All that lovely growing old, fast-forwarded in a puff of future-fairy-dust. I should add it was the previous customer, let's call her Brenda, who was the owner of the SuperGold Card. The teller had somehow flicked to her file.

My great grandmother, Mackie, had long white hair that she pinned into a donut-shaped-bun at the nape of her neck. She was 100. I’m not sure why my hair colour went west in my forties? The stress of having three children in my mid-thirties. 34. 36. 38. Perhaps. I recall my midwife, telling me that each one of them had given her grey hairs, and it wasn’t her birth canal they were stuck in at the time. 

My lovely friend Sue, texted me earlier this week, from the mall. She’d accompanied her daughter to her colour appointment. After four hours in the chair, daughter was not happy with the results. Four hours! That was one of the reasons I stopped colouring my hair. The money! The time! I would honestly be on the verge of a panic attack around the two-hour mark. Get me out of hair! It was such a relief to stop. 

I was asked to interview the wildly famous and fabulous UK Children’s Laureate author/illustrator, Lauren Child, soon after I took the au-natural-road. I had a moment beforehand. Well, quite a few moments actually. I thought I cannot interview the super gorgeous, super stylish Lauren Child while I’m growing out my hair. I. Need. Just. One. Last. Colour. One. 

During the interview, Lauren cutely asked me several questions. I’d been introduced to her the day before at Remarkables Primary, along with her UK publisher and PR assistant, Lozzle. Even so, when she said, “We were talking about your hair yesterday!” I laughed a startled laugh.

“You were? That’s so embarrassing. I stopped colouring it. I’m so white.” Then I leaned in and showed her my whitest locks. On my temples. OMG I still cannot believe I did that. “I kept ringing up salons to make an appointment but I couldn’t get in anywhere.”

Lauren said, “No, it’s lovely. It’s all the rage in the UK right now. To grow it out. It’s great.”

Mmmmm. Lauren’s blonde hair had subtle, baby pink highlights. “The key is putting the right amount in,” she told me. “It doesn't last long.”

Three years ago, only punks had pink hair. Not like nowadays when every rad gran you pass in PakNSave is rocking pink pastel, asymmetrical fringes and undercuts. But from that moment, I knew I’d dabble in a pinkaluscious-balayage-future. So I can’t tell you how thrilled I was when I discovered De Lorenzo Nova Fusion colour shampoos. $29.99. Salon only.

Believe me, I have tress-tested these babies and will happily pass on my knowledge. I do pretty much have a blank palette to start with, which helps as results depend on your base colour. But you can’t go too wrong. ** 

Jane says:

Beige Blonde - adds a certain blonde-creaminess and goldy highlights. My fave.

Rose Gold - adds soft, baby pink tones. You will be pink!

Coral Peach NEW - adds odd orange-pink tones. (I was so excited when I found this. But after several washes, I felt like a fruit salad. And when people told me things like my hair matched my shoes I was outta there right back to Beige Blonde. Don’t be fooled by the name. This colour would also tide you over between salon colours if you have blonde highlights. I believe.)

On this Hi-Ho-silver journey, I discovered a few Instagram feeds of women pushing the greying-gracefully mood. But most of them were ex-models with goddess-like cheekbones, soft-filtered tanned faces and thick, long luscious locks. And after reading how they maintained that youthful glow: “I brush myself with a stiff-bristled dry brush before showering, twice a day! I don’t touch red meat, sugar or alcohol.” This old cardholder left them to their namastes and their nettle tea.

(Parts of this post also appear on Stuff NZ. Bubbly brunettes wanting to enhance their greys might find Nadine Rubin Nathan's dye tips helpful.)

** Directions. Do a quick first wash. Towel dry. Apply a generous amount of shampoo. Go about the business of shaving your legs or dreaming up a new novel. (I still can’t get the image of naked writers coming up with their best ideas while wet 'n soapy. Melinda? Sue?) Anyhoo, leave the shampoo on for 5-10 mins. Rinse. Condition with Nova Fusion Colour Care conditioner. Next time you wash, repeat above to maintain colour. Or if you don’t like it, use normal shampoo to wash it out. I sometimes do a lucky-dye and mix the colours. 

ps. Three days later, my Bonusbonds savings have not been transferred. They say, Allow 10 days.

pps. I interviewed Lauren Child during the Auckland Writer’s Festival May 2017, for The Sapling

Author with Lauren Child. Photo by Lozzle