Brown Does Not Get the Red Out

For Christmas, I decided to be a loving daughter and sister, and oblige my family’s wishes for me to colour my hair a dark brunette as I had in the past. They had been pestering me about it for awhile, saying they liked it in comparison to my red hair (which I do love btw).

The first time I was frustrated. I sat at a table with them decorating Christmas biscuits, a tradition of ours, for at least an hour. I knew my hair was obviously not red, but they didn’t say anything. Finally I couldn’t take it any longer and told them “You know, I coloured my hair brunette just for you. Happy Christmas.”

As if they needed a prompt, they finally did the obligatory “Oh, it is lovely, thank you.” and whatnot. Yes, it is how we women work, men, confusing isn’t it?

Shortly after this, the red started coming back, in under a week mind you. I was frustrated. It had already coloured it a rather dark brown, but apparently it wasn’t dark enough. Determined to remain a brunette for at least a month I went and purchased a box of hair colour with the brown almost a soft black. I also made sure it had the right highlights in it to minimize the red I had. I then coloured my hair for a second time, taking in my porcelain features in the mirror with grim satisfaction. If this didn’t get the red out, I’d just have to go black. My skin is fair but I can pull it off. When I am determined about something it takes a lot to deter me.

Apparently colouring one’s hair does not subdue their other more amiable personality traits. I have been reflecting on the number of times I have been pissed off to the point of shaking over the past few weeks. A lot of it had to do with my previous posts from last week and I can’t help but wonder if it all had something to play in my battle against the red. I suddenly realised that the red goes deeper than my hair roots. I had forgotten, in my absolve, how much my personality is like a stereotypical redhead. I am feisty with a bit of a temper. Some even call me a minx due to my constant sarcastic and coy behaviour. Other’s tease me about my horns subduing my bent halo, which constantly puts up a futile fight against the inevitable.

Earlier this week, one co-worker pointed out that the red was coming back. I dashed off to the mirror. Shit, she was right. Slowly this blackish-brown was looking more and more blackish-red. It was beginning at my roots, although they weren’t visible, they were at least slowly poisoning the brown, fighting to display the red in all its fiery glory. Could who I am be inducing some chemical reaction resulting in the colour change?

Later that same day, I was sitting in one of the other labs chatting with some blokes I work with and their boss, a woman who I clicked with my first day on the job. They all ganged up on me on how I was boring as a brunette, and I was hotter as a redhead. The woman told me she thought I was someone horrid and new and told me I needed to “wash that colour out immediately until you get your beautiful red back.”

I also had two meetings this week which resulted in my vampiresque self coming in during the *gasp* day. I saw my co-workers whom I never see and my boss. They all ganged up on me saying that this brown needed to go, that I looked better with the red hair due to my features, and that although it caused them to hide at times, I do have the personality of a redhead.

What was going on, a secret memo at work causing everyone to gang up on me? Is there a new policy at work where we need to colour our hair according to our personalities so as to forewarn those who cross our paths?

As a brunette I could come off more tame. That is unless you look in my eyes or I open my mouth. Then I usually solicit a “WTF?!” from people. At least as a redhead I didn’t catch them off guard. People saw me and knew not to cross me before I flashed them my impish smile.

With everyone at work ganging up on me with the fact that the “hot” redhead was now a morose brunette, and with the fact that I just miss my red hair, screw trying to fight against the inevitable, my family, and who I am; the red is coming back.