For once, I thought, “I want my hair to be light for summer”. Not blonde. God no. Just a bit more ‘I spent a month at the French Riviera’ kinda thing. I had experimented with bleach before, back when ‘ombre’ confused my SO by thinking I meant the Spanish ‘hombre’ -why would I want to put a Spanish dude in my hair, he thought. The ombre did work out well back then and for the summer of 14 I rocked red hair with lighter blonde/orange ends. It was truly and utterly *magical*.
Fastforward to the summer of 15 -some hair cuts and red dye jobs later- when I tried to achieve the same kinda thing, because *magic*. I stood in my bathroom thinking, ‘I’ll be one hell of a sexy motherf*cker when I survive this’ -but I wasn’t. The result was, well, dissapointing. To say the least. It was more of a shine bright like a yellow/orange diamond than a solid sexy bitch-moment. Glad I already burried my hopes and dreams of becoming a hairdresser back when I happily messed up the hair of my barbie dolls.
Instead of trying to fix it, I took it as a sign from God that there was a reason I don’t walk the earth with blonde hair, don’t care. Best to leave the hairgods alone. Before they bestow green or blue colorings on me for trying to mess with them. I truly apologize.
Instead, I found some dark brown colors that I started obsessing over. Lucy Hale was my spirit animal in those moments. Her dark hair became my holy grail, my lord and savior. I took some winter into my summer and it has done me nothing but good. Going dark when everyone goes light is the same as going left when everyone goes right; you’re just one hell of motherf*cking rebel! My hair looks sophisticated, my strands shine, eyebrows match, eyes pop -and boobs pop, or is that just me?