My Life in Hair
Photo: Getty Images
As a teenager in the 1980s, I grew up in the era of the supermodel. I liked Christy, thought that Cindy was hot, and definitely considered Naomi to be a fabulous force of nature. But of the all the catwalk-stomping glamazons, I had a special affinity for Linda Evangelista thanks to her ever-changing chameleon-like ways. I loved that La Linda changed her hair and haircolor as often as some folks change their sheets. When asked what she did in her down time, Evangelista quipped, “I do my roots.” Every time she went from long to short, brunette to blonde to red to ombré, the supermodel emerged butterfly-like and utterly relevant. It gave me the idea that life is too short to only sport one look.
My blonde tresses at age 2
I started reinventing my look at a young age. I was born blonde, but my locks turned brown when I hit 10. In early high school, I went with the at-home hair lightening staple of the 1980s Sun-in. I sported blonde-ish, ombré locks that I augmented with lemon on southern Florida afternoons. My rakish hair color gave me entrée into a world that was about as close to NYC’s East Village as I could get in suburban Tampa, Florida. I wore The Go-Gos and The Clash T-shirts and listened to Sigue Sigue Sputnik and quoted the film “Sid and Nancy.” But changing my hair color allowed me to go a tad rebel without committing to something like a tattoo.
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Trying to look smart for college admissions with brown locks and glasses
But when it came time to go to my college admissions interviews, I went back to brown hair. For interviews, I didn’t want to look like I was hanging out in East Village clubs. I thought brown locks made me look smarter, more serious—or so I hoped. With a pair of glasses and my very preppy and somewhat foppish locks—I hoped to convey a serious, smart, and accept-me-right-now vibe. However, I laugh now, because in pics I see that Clairol gave a rather green-ish vibe to my brown tresses when seen in certain lights. Hey, haircolor can be an adventure.
Trying to look like a creative media genius in my 30s
After college, I moved to New York and served as the Editor in Chief of a group of high-end local magazines. I sported a sort of Prince Valiant-length blond hair that I had straightened religiously at a Japanese salon—and paired with pleather pants when I went out. In the glamorous magazine world, where editors all seem to have signature locks, I thought I needed a little pizzazz to keep things interesting. But I quickly tired of bi-weekly salon appointments and the major maintenance and upkeep. I am much more of a wash-and-go type. Who really has time for that upkeep when they have a job? Unlike Linda I didn’t get paid $10,000 a day just to get out of bed.
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On New Year’s Eve 2000, a tad drunk, I went Jean Harlow peroxide blonde and forgot that I had a big meeting with a casino chief in Las Vegas a few days later. I certainly stood out at the Bellagio amongst the blue suits as I presented an idea for a lifestyle publication aimed at high rollers. Steve Wynn didn’t blink when meeting me in that brief but ebullient Billy Idol period, but then again anything goes in Sin City—thank goodness.
Playing it safe in my late 30s
For the past three years, I’ve been happy as a brunette—enjoying my natural locks as I segued out of New York City and into my hometown of High Point, North Carolina. Better to play it safe, I figured. But just this month, I changed again. I’m 44 now, and I was feeling a tad blah. Mid-life hair moment perhaps, but I went with it. My amazing hair guru, Mario Diab gave me a dash of strawberry blonde in the front of a tousled-do that descends to well-shaved, brunette sides. The whole look channels the 1980s but in a fun way. I am certainly attracting more notice, and that’s A-OK by me.
Adding some cool to my life in my mid-40s
“It’s very Wham! in the Club Tropicana phase,” a friend told me when I first debuted the look. Frankly, I love early Wham!
"It takes ten years off your face,” another pal noted, and that comment certainly won points considering that I am pushing my mid-40s. Maybe I will keep this look…
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“I liked the brunette better,” said another friend. “That phase was very Jake Ryan in ‘Sixteen Candles.’ But I am sure you will be back to the brunette soon enough—you always are.” True. My natural brown hair is where I will end up again. I always do. My brunette locks are a under-lock-and-key constant, and I am lucky enough to have a full head of it.
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But I have yet to try red, and it could be amusing to be a ginger…if only for a month. As Mae West once said, “It’s better to be looked over than overlooked.” And who wants to be overlooked?
