I’m not ready to join the silver sirens
WHEN I saw a picture the other day of retail consultant and broadcaster Mary Portas, she of the tangerine bob, I was fascinated. Mary has coloured her hair for as long as I’ve known her. We first met when she was working at Harvey Nichols in the early 1990s and she always wore extreme hair colour, her brilliant locks standing out among a sea of tastefully balayaged blondes and streaky brunettes.
Now, though, she’s joined the proudto-be-grey movement. As has Princess
Caroline of Hanover, seen this week at the Chanel Couture show in Paris, and actress Andie MacDowell on the red carpet at Cannes – the famous black mane of her Four Weddings days now brazenly pepper and salt. Also at Cannes was Helen Mirren, the longtime patron saint of the greys, as shimmeringly silver as ever.
So what’s stopping me from taking this plunge when I could save myself thousands of pounds? And precious hours of time. It’s not that grey would make me look older – there are already many bits of me doing that job perfectly well – but that it wouldn’t feel like me.
Some women go grey young and, if I had been one of them, I would definitely have let it stay that way.
There’s a nasty transition moment but once you’ve done it, you’re home and dry. You become a person with grey hair, just as others have mouse or brown. You learn how to best make it work with your clothes and make-up and, if you have the right skin tone and right hair texture, grey can look fabulous at every age. You are a powerful warrior queen with flowing gunmetal locks. You are a silky silver siren. You can have that lovely Latin grey that looks fantastic with red lipstick.
Even though my grey is still patchy, it’s wiry and dull. It makes my skin look washed-out. Every now and again I contemplate joining the gang. Proudly exposing my natural self.
And then I happily put that self back away waiting for another day.