On a snowy afternoon not long ago I plotted a DIY beauty day. What better way is there to spend a few hours than getting pretty, feeling healthy, and being financially responsible? Homemade salt scrub, two boxes of hair color, and this facial recipe from Ready Made were on my agenda. If you can’t tell, I love DIY. Since my mom is a cosmetologist, I have no fear of coloring or cutting my hair. After all, I helped her color her hair and began doing my own hair when I moved away from home several years ago. All that experience and nary a mishap—perhaps you already sense where this is going.
|Perhaps the last documentation of my natural haircolor: |
Preschool 1986 (Mullet in Mary Janes)
My intent with the hair color was to (with box numero uno) eek a little closer to my natural hair color. I’d like to get away from dumping chemicals on my head each month. The second box was a caramel highlight kit because I’ve been blonde so long and didn’t want to send the universe (or mainly just myself) into shock or look like John Stossel (a la Just for Men).
All was going well with round 1 of the transition. Before rinsing, I noticed my furry friend Toby doing a dance in front of the back door. For now, we use a cable tether to keep him in the yard, so I clipped it to his collar and sent him out. I noticed the urgency in his gait and saw the girl-dog-next-door as she captured his gaze. The two young pups, very madly in love, frequently stare and clamor toward one another as far as their cables will stretch, nearly strangling themselves. We and our neighbors try to avoid these ugly scenes, and only let one out while the other is inside. If she is out, but he’s inside she barks and yelps forlornly in Beagleese. I imagine the translation sounds like this, “Toby, Toby, wherefore art thou, Toby!”
|Toby (as I write)|
In my urgency, I forgot to check to see if she was out. The pups locked eyes and ran toward one another, forgetting their tethers. I thought, “Oh, no! He’s going to strangle himself!” At 10 months he’s full-grown and strong, but puppy-minded and not yet neutered. Just as that thought formulated in my mind, Toby’s collar snapped, freeing him to romp and slobber all over his lady love. I scrambled for my boots and something to cover my head, still drenched in 8 ounces of L’Oreal Superior Preference 5G.
By the time I got outside to rescue the delicate neighbor pup from our beast, our neighbor had come out, let the female off her tether and supervised an evenly-matched, PG-rated play session.
I can’t recall the exact moment when I swore off DIY hair-color. Maybe it was during the awkward small talk and my apologies to my neighbor, or while I attempted to wrangle a collarless, 65-pound, snowy puppy that lacks obedience training. It’s neither here nor there. DIY is a great way to save money and feel self-sufficient and in control. That is, until your dog usurps control and wintry air does something weird to the oxidation process of your hair color and you wind up paying a professional to fix your mistake anyway. Lesson learned. Thanks, Toby.