67. From “pelirrojo” to “dumb blonde”

2 May, 2021

Alicante, Saturday, May 1, 2021

Labor Day, also a day off in Spain. So it may be a lighter story today.

I’ve always had a strange relationship with my hair. It always wants to live its wayward life. First of all, it’s ultra-fine, and as stylish as it gets. Can’t do much do with it, because with the slightest heat or hot flush – ungrateful to me by Mother Nature – it just falls flat against my head. It only makes my head look bigger, and my face looks puffy. It will therefore come as no surprise that I often look at the luscious curls of other women with amazement and also with a bit of envy. Sigh, I was not given to me.

Since last summer, my hair suddenly found it necessary to react very strongly to the sun. It started to get very rosy (“pelirrojo”). Despite all the products I used frantically, there was no stopping it. Nothing wrong with ros, I often find it very beautiful, but it didn’t seem like anything anymore. As if I always walked around with an unkempt head of hair. In covid times I found it “doable”. You know, no guests, hardly any people around you. Moreover, in Spain you see surprisingly often people who have the strangest colors in their hair. Beware, not just young, hip people, but often older people. And I’m not talking about the typical purple hue on the white “coupes” of elderly ladies. No, it is not strange here to see older women with bright orange, green or blue hair strands.

I am quite a “natural” person and prefer to walk the streets inconspicuously. You don’t easily see me in striking clothes. But I still decided to color my hair so that the discoloration by the sun would be somewhat camouflaged. I had already tried it myself, with a branded product, to avoid any risk, but it turned out to be gone after barely a week. The hairdresser was the next step. That, too, only continued to have an effect for more than two weeks. My hair just stubbornly kept doing its own thing.

Now you should know that I always take a photo from Pinterest to the hairdresser, so that it is clear to her which model I want. Coincidentally, it always turned out to be a picture of a white-blond lady. Whichever hairstyle I chose. So it happened that one day I got up and thought: I want that too. In the meantime I have also lost a lot of pounds, and that may also make me want something different again.

I made an appointment with the hairdresser, and the day after I was already in the chair. She was shocked because I had always said I didn’t want it blonde, despite her previous suggestions. So now it is. The difference would be truly earth-shattering.

I have to say that I found it very exciting myself, especially for the reactions of friends and family. Nobody knew anything about my plans. People would like to talk me down. And now there was no going back. Like a mummy, my hair was wrapped in plastic to let the product do its job, very, very long.

And then, “le moment suprême”. A strange woman stared at me in the mirror. I had become unrecognizable, especially with the mask on and with my new glasses – which luckily I could have replaced in warranty. Hip, that’s for sure, but I wasn’t sure what to think about it. Apparently the hairdresser immediately liked it, because she pulled out her cell phone to take a picture. It took some getting used to, that was for sure. And somehow I was happy because I could hide behind my mask in the street, afraid that everyone would see that I had changed. Ridiculous, because nobody knows me right?

Wim’s jaw dropped when I got home. He too was not sure what he thought of it, just like me. I needed some confirmation, and suddenly felt very insecure again. That confirmation came mainly from my eldest daughter who actually thought it was very hip and fun, and also from other young people. In the meantime I have gotten used to it myself, and I like it more and more. And just because it is so striking, and especially such a turnaround, there will be very different opinions. And that is good. It is no longer a safe choice, but a bold one. Just roll your muscles, here I am. Whether it causes me to adjust the rest of my look, I don’t know yet. I’ll see.

It also has its advantages. Wim no longer has to search long in the store to find me, and I will not be run over that quickly either 😉

I gladly include the jokes about the dumb blonde. I know better!

‘What’s in a name anyway?’

Hasta luego,


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