Plucking the Stray Grays (September 26, 2007)

Plucking the Stray Grays
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Will dying my hair affect future generations' self-image?

September 26, 2007 |
I'm a low-maintenance gal. Most days, my makeup consists of a smear of ChapStick�. I get a $12 haircut two or three times a year. My minimalist style is partly rebelliousness, having heard my mom, a retired beautician, nag, "Comb your hair! And why don't you put on some lipstick?" throughout my teen years. But not until my stint as a fashion reporter did I go totally anti-beauty. I saw firsthand how fashion magazines shape the societal beauty standards that make girls feel inadequate. From then on, I pledged my appearance would be au naturel.

That is, until I spotted my first real gray hairs.

In high school, I had a few stray grays that never troubled me. Back then, finding a random, wiry white hair sticking up from my chestnut mane was kind of cool. Contrary to my mother's warnings, when I pulled it out, five didn't grow back in its place. But in my late 20s, I noticed those single strands had mutated into little gray clusters. My solution: brush the dark hair over the gray areas so I couldn't see them. I kept brushing in denial until a few years ago. I went for my semiannual haircut on my 31st birthday, and the stylist offered, "I can touch up those bad spots for you." I passed on the dye job, but went home feeling defeated.

My youth—as I knew it—ended that day. I began questioning my commitment to natural hair color. I don't want to go gray! I don't want to look old! I whined internally. At the same time, my pledge to buck conventional beauty pressed in on me. I wondered: How might my choice to dye or not to dye affect future generations?

Thinking my hair color would impact other women and girls seemed a bit egotistical. But then I picked up a recent issue of Time magazine that dubbed women's hair-color choice "The Gray Wars," calling it "the latest feminist debate over aging and authenticity." This issue has polarized baby boomers, some of whom defend their dyed tresses while others promote natural gray hair.

The debate includes a superficial element, to be sure. Some women insist gray hair's superior because it's real and naturally beautiful. Others argue dyed hair looks better and reflects a youthful spirit.

But the issue goes deeper than vanity. Some women worry about gray discrimination in the workplace—that they'll get less respect or even lose their job if they go gray. (And, they contend, the same doesn't hold true for graying men, whose hair connotes responsibility and intelligence to employers.) These women fear society will deem them irrelevant if they go gray—too old to make an impact anymore.

On the pro-gray side, women want to own up to the reality of aging and seize the opportunity to redefine beauty. These ideas reflect my biggest concern: If I dye my hair, will girls think they have to look young forever? We live in an age where 60-year-old celebrities have skin with less flaws than a 16-year-old's—and few publicly admit to having had cosmetic surgery. Will girls employ extreme measures to keep up? Will women feel they aren't truly beautiful unless they appear perpetually 20 years old?

On the other hand, suggesting women become dumpy and dowdy as a show of "real" beauty seems extreme. At 58, my mom never has a hair out of place. Mom once took a comb and a mini-bottle of hairspray on a 10-hour, 16-mile hike. She came back ever-so-pleased that her hair looked as perfect as it did when she'd left our campsite. Looking good makes her feel good. I'd never suggest Mom stop coloring her hair or change her beauty routine, because I now realize it's part of who she is. What's truly beautiful is that my mom and I have learned to appreciate each other's distinct beauty. I admire her talent to create perfect hair and makeup, and she admires my ability to pull off a carefree style.

Ironically, I've spent more time obsessing over what to do with my hair than I've ever spent styling it. The Bible tells me beauty emanates from something much deeper than physical appearance: "Do not let your beauty come from the outside. It should not be the way you comb your hair or the wearing of gold or the wearing of fine clothes. Your beauty should come from the inside. It should come from the heart. This is the kind that lasts. Your beauty should be a gentle and quiet spirit. In God's sight this is of great worth and no amount of money can buy it" (1 Peter 3:3–4, NLV).

Beauty that's built to last, even as I age—that's the kind I want. I pray it will keep me from making value judgments on other women's hair, regardless of what I do with my own.

Blessings,
Holly