I made a discovery yesterday: my hair is changing colours.
I’m serious. My hair is changing colours.
I’ve seen this happen before to someone else. They have light brown hair that turns a dark shade of blond in the Summer, literally bleached by the sun. But this is the first time I’m noticing the change on myself. My hair is turning a lighter shade of black.
Wait, I’m not sure that’s possible. Are there different shades of black? Black just fades into different shades of dark grey, brown, purple, blue, etc., doesn’t it? Hmm. OK. Let’s assume there is only one shade of black. So then my hair is turning from a shade of brown so dark that it appears black into a lighter shade of brown that makes it look reddish brown in artificial light. Does that make sense to you? It does to me.
I was in the dressing room at the gym when I noticed it. And I was well and truly excited. I’ve always wanted to have brown hair. So much so that I might have considered dying my hair brown at one point, though that thought would never have been seriously entertained, given how frizzy my hair already is naturally.
It is a pain having frizzy hair. I can never let it down in a humid place if I don’t have it blown dry professionally. So I end up with a perpetual ponytail, or a deformed bunny tail at the back of my head. Note to self: learn how to make my hair into grown-up buns. I look young enough without the ponytail as it is.
So yes, I was in the dressing room, combing my hair, when I realised that it was gleaming red in the light. And that made my day. It’s not that I was having a really bad or an uneventful day, I’m just really weird. Noticing my hair change colour makes me very happy. I wonder if it’s the tropical sun. It must be. I’ve never seen a comparable change happen to me in London.
Somehow I’ve ended up writing an entire post about my changing hair colour. Ah well, maybe this daily blog won’t be so difficult as I thought it would be after all.
Until next time,
… well, tomorrow,