My Hairdresser’s Spidey Sense is Tingling

I want to dye my hair pink again.

I actually want to do this every couple of months, sometimes in smaller intervals. As a kid, I never really wanted to dye my hair, ever. It always got browner in the winter and blonder in the summer and I had a weird ombré-thing going on the rest of the year, which was cool with me. Then, when I was sixteen and visiting my best friend in Nashville, we rode our bikes to the store and got many, many lemons to juice and lighten our hair. We also bought Monster Energy drinks and watched The Crazies, which I still joke is a documentary about us in middle school rather than a violent zombie flick. But anyway, thanks to the lemons, I had a brassy top layer of hair and tangles for days.

Worth it. I loved everything about it!

In college, I caved  and started using sun-in a lot. It was easier that the lemons. My hairdresser is still mad at me for it, but I think it made me cute! My mom has had white-blonde hair my entire life, and being that I take after my dad’s side of the family in looks, I had the darkest hair of all my siblings growing up (none of us ended up with the white-blonde locks, much to the chagrin of my mother). My insatiable need to feel accepted by my parents aside, I really wanted to be a blonde.

I still do! Sort of. I get highlights once or twice a year (don’t come for me, I don’t care that much about actual upkeep). I just like the way it looks on me.

But not long after I graduated college and started my second job at my company, I had a new idea. I broached the subject with my new boss: I want to dye my hair pink. Thoughts?

She loved the idea, and thus, a monster was born–albeit a lazy one. Again, I don’t upkeep. It lasts for a couple weeks and then slowly fades out, and then I don’t think about it for a while. [Note: kool-aid, however, always dyes and never dies.] But I loved it!! I thought it was so cool. I generally am very average-looking, and it added something more interesting (edgy, even!) to my look. That’s not a dig at myself, promise.

I’ve dyed my hair (with semi-permanent color) a few times since then, and the last time I did it was 2020. You know how it was. I’m just lucky that all the Brad Mondo videos I watched only made me want to home-bleach my hair, not actually do it. The semi-permanent color is fun and low stakes, and really, I don’t care if it’s a little patchy.

Alas, it is January, which means I’m in the mood for New. Or in this case, a re-New. I reread Book Lovers by Emily Henry over the weekend, and Nora dyes her sister Libby’s hair pink very early on in the book. There it was, a sign to do the thing I’d been thinking about for the last several months. There’s a lot I can’t control in my life–in life in general, really–but I can control my hair color. And I can do it on the cheap at home.

I sent my other best friend a text about it: should I dye my hair pink again? We are going on vacation in a month together, so it could be a fun move for the trip.

He texted back one minute later: is this a crisis?

The answer is yes, always, but not the primary reason here. I already kind of got bangs recently, I wasn’t using hair to solve my mental health problems at the moment. In a way, I feel better in general when my hair is pink. It’s been my favorite color always, and something about carrying that with me everywhere I go is comforting. (Not mentioning my pink Starbucks tumbler, my pink Stanley (thanks, Mom), my pink keyboard, my pink glasses, or my pink nails).

However…I did something arguably more drastic instead: I bought a new bed.

At some point in the last year (I really can’t say exactly when), I broke one of the slats that holds up my mattress. I wish I could tell you I was doing something salacious that would make me blush to admit, but no, I just flop really hard into my bed. Life is tiring, okay?? Anyway, it’s the long support slat, not the little ones that go across, so it’s really an issue. For a while, I’ve been putting puzzle boxes and books underneath to hold it up, but I found out over the weekend that I’ve crushed two of my puzzle boxes (don’t worry, the pieces are fine) because I can’t not flop.

Now, I could have asked for a new piece of sturdier wood from my very kind landlord/neighbor. He is very handy! It would’ve been a cheap solution to my problem. My landlord would totally help me with it too, because he’s like a dad to me, and I would keep my very “mature person” bed (it’s definitely got a vibe).

That’s what a smart person might do. Someone less impulsive, maybe. Definitely someone who is perfectly capable of asking others for help. Too bad I’m minimally smart, very impulsive about online shopping, and I have a chronic aversion to asking for help.

So, I bought a whole new bed instead, and readers, I’m soooo excited about it. I wanted something similar but more colorful than what I have currently. I love the upholstered headboard I have, but the taupe color just looks a bit plain in my bedroom with the cream walls and white shag rug.

This all looked great in my old place because the natural light wasn’t very good (nor was the artificial), and we had really dark wood floors. It really brightened up the space, and I do love it. But now, I have cool burnt orange concrete floors, a shiplap accent  wall, and lots of mismatched, colorful furniture. It makes my bedroom feel kind of boring plain in comparison. Especially until a few months ago when I had a black and white bedspread (pink now, shocking!). Plus, a majority of the upholstered headboard-ed beds had wooden frames/supports, and I just couldn’t allow this slats-issue to happen again. I! Must! Flop!

Instead, I got a cool gold, metal frame. It’s going to look kind of weird at first, I think, but it’s also going to allow for actual storage underneath, which, in turn, will allow me to clean up the entire area a bit. To use my tucked-away HGTV jargon, it’s totally going to elevate the space. And it really wasn’t that expensive, so honestly, a win.

I have a habit of just allowing things like this in my life to just “be okay.” I’m not usually in a rush to fix some things that I really should deal with. My gold skeleton from Halloween is still making a home in my living room (not complaining). The shower rod I was using as a temporary solution to hang my coats in my front cabinet has finally given up on me (but it was good two years) so now my jackets are just hanging in my entryway arch. I keep shoes with holes in the soles just because it rarely rains here so I don’t need to replace them yet.

I also have object ownership issues because of wanting to move to England (as I mentioned in my 2024 Clownery List). This weird non-limbo limbo is a whole other can of worms that I won’t bore you with now.

But, see, then I fix things or replace things, and I just think, “oh, well that wasn’t so hard. Why did I make such a big deal in my head about it?” Because I need to be in therapy, that’s why.

I ask you this, was buying a whole new bed a comparable thing to do instead of dying my hair? Not talking money-wise, of course. But like, is that a reasonable alternative??? I really can’t tell. Nor do I care so much, but I’m wondering why my brain, within ten minutes, went from “buy hair dye” to “buy a huge piece of room-defining furniture.”

What’s next? A new rug instead of replacing my car seat covers that I’ve been talking about doing for over a year?

No, rugs are ungodly expensive, and the check engine light just went on in my car. And it’s raining this week (good for my mental health, bad for my motivation to take my car in). And my nails are so long we’re only moments away from a painful breakage. And I need to get gas.

Look, with so many external things in my life being in disarray, dying my hair to make my heart feel better doesn’t seem like the worst idea. I can buy my bed and eat it too–wait, that’s not right, is it?