I decided to go gray. Underneath the coating of brown, blonde, and red–I have hereditary silver streaks. My mother’s hair was sterling most of my life, and I’ve watched Cowgirl Crisp’s change from black to iron to snow. It’s really beautiful.
The turning point came one Saturday night at our regular burger joint. Under florescent lights, the lady, who took my order, had hair exactly the shade of grape jelly. She looked like she was wearing an elaborate fright wig.
Suddenly, I was self conscious. Checking myself out in the plate glass window, I asked Bacon, “Do I look like that?”
Bacon isn’t stupid. He answered correctly. But, I couldn’t shake the image out of my head. I considered my options.
A few days later, I went to a salon and asked the hairdresser to give me a cut like Jamie Lee Curtis.
“Jamie Lee Curtis. A Fish Called Wanda. True Lies. The yogurt commercial lady.”
“Never heard of her. Maybe you could find a picture.”
I should have known. The stylist’s hair included a slash of grape jelly purple across the front, and I was pretty sure it was intentional. I left and returned with a photo.
Running fingers through my new cut, she said, “What are you going to put on this?”
“What do you mean?” I knew exactly what she meant, but wanted her to say it.
“No color. I’m going gray.”
“You won’t like it.”
I quit talking.
A week later, I was picking up the girls from school, when a friend told me a funny story.
“We rented Freaky Friday last weekend. My kids loved it. They said the mom looked just like you.”
So, I got the Jamie Lee look after all, minus 7 extra inches in height. What do you think? Are we twins?