“I’m going to do two blondes. One the same shade as last time. One a bit lighter,” she said.
And it’s how I do everything – in small, minute increments. Barely noticeable. Barely moving.
“I’ve secretly always wanted red hair,” I blurted.
She studied me a moment. “You know, I think you could pull that off. You’ve got the right skin tone. And your hair’s a 7/8 so it would do well with red.”
My head was too full of possibility to inquire what 7/8 hair meant. Whatever it was (tone, hue, texture, length?) I had it and was a candidate for a pipe dream I’ve never voiced out loud before. I like the haircut I’ve got which leaves the color as the only thing available to change.
Red. Could I really do it?
“We could do a temporary one that would rinse out in a few washes,” she said.
Pretty soon I’m going to start dreaming in red.
[Edited to add: NO. I didn’t go through with it. The blondes were already applied to my head and were steeping, plus, hello?!? I move slowly. I need time to come to terms with this massive change. I only dyed my hair for the first time ever in January 2014. Today was the second time.]