Face Value
Lessons, Big and Small, From Growing Out My Gray
At 50, one writer decided that her dark brown hair was no longer to dye for. But going silver, it turns out, comes with its own growing pains.
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Elisabeth Egan is a writer at the Book Review.
If the hair styles of your youth leaned heavily on string barrettes, first-generation scrunchies and headbands with venomous teeth, you probably have some gray hair by now. Join the club. I noticed my first white strand in my 20s, then dyed my hair dark brown, on an ever-tightening schedule, for a quarter of a century. Six months ago, I realized I was like a man with a comb over — as in, I wasn’t fooling anyone — so I quit cold turkey.
Actually it wasn’t quite so easy-breezy. I waffled and agonized and bored everyone in my orbit with machinations befitting an astronaut preparing for a moon landing.
I knew the upsides of coloring my hair. I knew the perks of leaving it alone. What I could not wrap my head around was the growing-out process. Was I really supposed to walk around looking like a snow-capped mountain for two years?
Thankfully, there are hundreds of Instagram accounts dedicated to the graying of women who appear to be much more capable with French braids and filters than I am. I appreciated the “inspo” (is this still a thing?) but wanted to know what was going on inside the heads of these women. Here’s what’s happening inside mine.
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