So today I went over to have lunch with some lovely ladies and before and after eating, I made them touch hair, lift up different pieces, spin me around and discuss my hair.
“It’s awful, right? Say it’s awful.” I needed more people to agree with me.
“Yes, it’s…well, it’s unnatural. And the red is still everywhere. And it starts in funny places.” They were both still trying to be nice.
“And it is awful. Like white trash.” I have lived in a trailer before. I can say white trash whenever the hell I want, especially in describing myself.
This is how it looks.
Before you get all, it’s NOT THAT BAD, HEATHER, I’ll have you know that what appears to be brown in the photo is actually a pinkish. And there’s plenty of that deep red hiding underneath that platinum peppered mess.
Now up close you will be able to see that not only does the coloring make no fucking sense but highlights start inches away from my scalp and sometimes come in chunks and other times are just streaks which the hairdresser claimed was her “natural” look for me.
It’s frosted. Frosted like old women do. Frosted like I pulled my hair out of a damned cap and tossed some dye on it and who even does that cap thing anymore? Worst of all, I googled “frosted hair” to see what pictures I could find to accurately compare myself to and found this.
Frosted pube hair. Scrumptious.