My Life as a Redhead

 

I began coloring my hair red after I turned thirty. Perhaps it was an homage to my Irish heritage. But since I was deprived of the red, I gave myself the hair color I felt I deserved.

I started with henna, but as you might know, once you’ve dipped your toe into the waters of hair-colorie, well, it’s a short trip to full-on Clairol at home in the bathroom sink.

This allure of the red hair came from more than my Irish ancestry. I grew up with a steady diet of I Love Lucy and Million Dollar Movies featuring famous red-heads like Rita Hayworth and Ann-Margret, but I related more to the comic red-heads, the girl next door types like Shirley MacLaine—the ones who weren’t obvious beauties but got the plot moving in unexpected directions.

I eventually grew my red hair long and then I got bored with it and cut it myself into a sort of mullet, which was a disaster, so I disguised the crazy choppiness by pulling it up into a lopsided Cyndi Lauper style ponytail. And then, there I was by 1991--sitting in a UCLA classroom wearing my Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown tee-shirt with fake shoulder pads. It was a look. Okay?!

A little aside---I once met the director, Pedro Almodóvar and when I introduced myself, he gave me a kiss on each cheek. Evidence that people like red heads!

Unfortunately, once I returned to Connecticut to teach at the very proper Fairfield University, my red hair became a liability. And so, I experimented with more subtle shades of red. And then brunette. And then, brunette with a fuchsia streak. When I moved to Cape Cod--land of Lily Pulitzer pastels--I went blonde. And then variations on the blonde theme.

And now, and now? I’m a natural platinum blonde from the Land of Upstate. (Okay, grey!) Truth is, I no longer think about hair color all that much. I have the hair of an old woman and that’s because--I am an old woman!

Creative Friends--in your life time, you will try on many identities. My advice--allow yourself free rein. Have fun. Make mistakes. (More importantly, make friends!) But know this--one day, you will return to yourself.

And that is the greatest pleasure of all.

Love,

Jamie