Yes, I have a few strands of grey hair. No, I will not admit how many.
I do not care to know. The “fix” is in – with a talented Hair Painter Extraordinaire, and I’ll leave it at that.
Yes, I witness petulant parts of the body which appear to be going South. No, this does not please me. In fact, it’s something of an issue at my Less-Than-Towering-Stature, as I already dwell rather close to the ground.
While in perpetual search of a lower gravity planet, in the meantime I rely on my stock of French-engineered age-defying undergarments and thus, I remain presentable in public, and likewise – j’espère – in private.
Still, as is the case for many women, hair is key: the style of our do’s, and the state of our don’ts.
Would anyone else confess to experiencing the “good hair day” and confidence that follows, as opposed to the “bad hair day” when everything seems to run amuck?
Confidence in Your Appearance
Maybe it’s your smile at its best.
Maybe it’s your waistline – at a manageable circumference.
Maybe it’s knowing you’re wearing your loveliest underthings under everything, visible or not.
But for me, while all of the above are important, it’s about the hair.
Bad hair? A bad hair day.
Good hair? All’s right with the world.
I’m fired up for focus. Flirting with flights of fancy. Sufficiently sassy to succumb to socializing. And boldly going, going, going, gone – at least, in my imagination.
At a recent visit to my local salon, exchanging hellos with those I’ve known through more momentous events then I dare enumerate, I was recalling my life through hair crazes and phases.
Foam at Home, Flair for Hair?
Shall I begin with the Pixie Cut, by my mother’s hand, beyond my control and no doubt scarring me psychologically for decades?
Shall we mention the Marlo Thomas That Girl Flip, or the hapless hippie hair though we may resemble Cousin Itt? What of our devotion to foam at home – those squeezable pink and yellow rollers we used in junior high school – back when it was indeed called “junior high?”
Anyone else with 70s Farrah Fawcett wings, or the 80s perm that lingered into the 90s, not to mention Primping with Crimping, the Euro Boy Cut, or Last Call for Lots-O-Layers? And what of calamitous color – fuchsia (for grad school), and semi-permanent orange stripes on the cusp of the Millennium?
There was also my own version of the Carol Brady – three decades too late, to which I can only say that if you’re thinking of washing that man right out of your hair – move away from the scissors at midnight, especially in a ferocious fit of female fury.
Hair Happiness: Whatever it Takes
Best hair for your age?
Cut that line right out of your vocabulary! 
More to the point, forget the “rules” that say you must do this or that at any particular age.
Why not best hair for you – for ease, for drama, for versatility, or for your profession? Why not best style for the shape of your face, for your coloring, for the brightness and texture of your skin, for your height and weight, and yes – for your sense of self?
Why not view this as your approach to all the key aspects of life – not only your personal style, but your friendships, your relationships, where you live and the sort of work you do?
One of the great joys of midlife is the liberating realization that age need not define us!
Confidence and Consciousness
As for my evolutionary process of (re)gaining confidence following divorce, not to mention consciousness of what truly mattered to me in my life, I credit my firstborn son for telling me to grow my hair if I wanted to date.
Ah, from the mouths of (prepubescent) babes.
But in my case, he was right. He said “men like long hair” and, well… as I transformed from a super short cut to shoulder length, what can I say? I felt sexier and more mischievous – just what the doctor ordered when re-entering the dating world and reconfiguring my work life. Doesn’t any boost in how we feel about ourselves mute the self-doubt and enhance perspective?
What I have learned is this: I am more energetic and competent when I feel good in my own skin (bien dans ma peau) – when I eat properly, exercise moderately, and sleep even a little.
I feel stronger and more able to deal with everything. I reason better, appreciate more fully, and work harder on those areas that require vigilance.
Good hair?
Longer hair as a midlife woman?
It raises my spirits and seems to activate All Enthusiastic Energies Within.
Passport to Better Days
Surely I’m not the only woman whose sensual spark ignites when she feels fit and cutely coiffed?
It seems inconsequential. And yet it’s not.
Outward appearances can fuel inner confidence. The trick is balance – and that’s a personal equation. Care and feeding works wonders – tending to the emotional, the intellectual, the relational, the physical and the “exterior maintenance” activities that keep us feeling strong.
It’s hard to accomplish; harder still at a hectic time of year.
Despite my mind-numbing schedule, and the ever insistent annoyances of midlife aches and pains, I feel surprisingly good about life in general. Helped along by (today’s) happy hair, empty nest seems like a lovely state of affairs. Now if only I could swing it financially I would blissfully binge on a three week séjour in Paris, where I would surrender ecstatically to my truest self.
I’d check for metro tickets in my back pocket, grab my passport and “emergency” Euros, and I’d be off.
Hair today. Gone tomorrow.
But back in time for my next appointment at the salon.
I smiled the whole way through this blog…I’m right there with you sister!
I know you are, by your gorgeous hair, Debi! 🙂
Fabulous! Could not agree more. I had a moment in these shitty two years that maybe I should chop off my hair and stop trying to look like a 30-year-old since I’m 40++ and life is aging me rapidly (and rabidly, it would seem), but the truth is my VANITY lives in my hair. And if I get rid of my vanity, then I may as well pull up the gangplank and hang a “DO NOT BOTHER ME” sign on my front door and say au revior to the cruel world. But I don’t want a cruel world. I want a nice, soft, welcoming, flirtatious one. And for that reason alone, I shall keep investing in my vanity (as a good blonde does not come cheap) and let my hair hang well more than halfway down my back, and wait for the days that I have enough happiness to feel girlish again. My heart and soul may not be ready. But the hair is!!
You said it, Stacy! (And girlish will come back again. And you’ll have the hair ready to rock it!)
dearest D
we had a “blow out” as the americans call it (which, of course, in england, is a Large Meal but we digress) and tis true – we felt GLORIOUS.
waving the newly washed mane over here in soho and feeling fabulous –
love, tg xx
A “blow out.” I love that expression, tg. May be all feel so fabulous! Waving from a bit South of you, and wishing I were waving from across the Atlantic. I am Paris-ready!
Ah, hair. How do we love thee. My two cents from the other side of the sexual divide:
I had to give up hope a long time ago. Baldness doesn’t run in my family, it gallops. So instead of hair pieces, comb-overs, or what have you, I decided to fully embrace it and cross over to The Dark Side. I shave whatever is left and go for a clean look. Is it true, well for men at least, that less is more? Of course, whenever the question of my baldness crops up, I affectionately touch my head and say, “I’m not bald. This is a solar panel for a sex machine.” I thought this would shut them up but it doesn’t. They’re usually laughing out loud. Like guffaws and belly laughs. I don’t understand why. Is that so hard to believe? Okay, maybe not the solar panel part but…
🙂 I agree with Walker. I know very few women who care about a man’s lack of hair. Lack of humor? A deal breaker.
Well, in view of my recent hair adventures, I guess that rules me out of dating, maybe forever. I don’t think I’ll grow it back. Not yet anyway. What does that say about me at this time? ‘Out of my way!’, I think. 🙂
Oh Di. What a story. I think you should tell it, and I can only imagine that in addition to honoring your son’s best friend’s dad – and all he did for your own child – I can only imagine your friend also understands the gift of you shaving your head to donate your hair.
That speaks volumes of beauty beyond anything we’re talking about here.
I’ve had the same haircut for decades. Fran does it now. I’m thinning but doing quite well for my age. Fran’s letting hers grow . It’s now well down her back — unusual for a woman in her 60’s. But she has wonderful natural blond (less red than when she was young) hair — I’ll send you last year’s pic of My Viking Woman (it’s longer now).
But frankly, neither of us has been to a hairdresser/barber for years.
Hair is one of my best features. I’m pretty much 75% hair, as a matter of fact. I started with the pixie cut as well (cut by My own mother), and had the perfect Farrah flip in high school. I had short hair for about 13 years after my kids were born, but have slowly been growing it back out. For one thing, it makes me feel better; for another, it’s now so frizzy and so much curlier I’m afraid to go short! The one thing I do hate is when a teenage boy comes up behind me in a car and sees long blonde hair — he pulls up and I can feel him looking. I try not to turn too quickly, lest I terrify him with my 52 year old face :).
Donna, You always make me laugh!
I have a mass of hair (ask my husband about what happens to our pipes) more curls than one head of hair needs and have finally come to love what God has given me. After years of straightening and ironing, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Hair is KEY. I recently went through a phase where I began to have thin “menopausal” looking hair. It was so damn depressing and made me feel awful. One stylist mentioned extensions and I wanted to slap her. I found a new stylist and she taught me a trick..since my hair is fine she said to brush it forward the enire time I am blowing drying. My hair now looks as thick as it did in my thirties and I am SO happy!
I relate to every single word of this–after losing my hair to chemo and then growing it out and donating it, I decided I don’t care what’s age appropriate—I grew it out again, it’s almost down to my waist and I love every inch. PS after you’ve been bald, trust me, there is no such thing as a bad hair day ever. PSS Your writing is fabulous!
Darryle, thank you for sharing your hair story. I believe you – that after being bald, as a woman, no day is a bad hair day! How fabulous that you grew your hair and donated it after. Enjoy that beautiful mane! (And thank you for the compliment.)
To William–I think bald is very sexy on a man!
I started letting my hair grow long, again, when I left my job 3 years ago. It’s now quite long and I love it. I no long streak it, so grey is rolling in but nicely for the moment. Having long hair (almost to breasts) makes me feel in control of who I am–no longer conforming to someone’s opinion of what 58 should look like. I’ve been through a number of phases, indeed a modified Farrah, but this suits me. And, yes, when I look good and am taking care of myself, I think it provides energy for all of me.
YES. Definitely feel better and more confident when my hair looks good. I just had mine razor cut – really short and spiky – and for the first time in 30 some years it’s short. Quite a change. And I really like it. It had nothing to do with feeling a need to be “age appropriate.” Just wanted the change.
The “change” aspect really is energizing, Barbara. Your cut sounds delightful!
I have naturally curly hair — hair has always been a big issue. I did a memoir challenge in October, writing posts for each year from 1 to 25 and hair played a big role in several of them.
Midlife led to thinning hair for me, so I’ve gone short which gives a better illusion of more volume. On the plus side, though, I found a curly hair specialist and she’s magic. I wish I’d had her when I was twenty-something, but she wasn’t going to be born for another few years.
My entire day can hinge on the state of my hair. The shittiest day can be redeemed if my hair is good, while the best day in my life would be marred by the memory, “If only my hair had looked better.”
I love a good blow out. I had one when I was in NYC this last summer and realized that a good blow out was definitely the sign of civilization.
Farrah -yyesss! And then I switched to Sassoon bops. There were so many variations. Remember famous figure skating duo Torvill & Dean in mid 80s? Then it was Mireille Mathieu style, she has it for years, her trade mark hair, loved it. And now? Something short and whimsy.
At this point in my life, mid 50s, I am feeling like my hair is one of my few physical attributes that is actually getting better. Is it a little thinner? Yes. A little gray? Well, yes, in the temples. But it is long and lush, past my waist, and makes me feel more beautiful than anything else. On a good hair day, I get oohs and aahs and compliments galore. On a bad hair day, it goes up into a stunning bun.
Hair has been an issue my entire life…because it is so important to me and because it takes so much effort to get it to behave and look the way that I want. Of the MANY issues I have had perhaps the biggest crisis took place when I was 12, when my Asian hair sprung halfway into an Afro. My mother had me trying every shampoo, every conditioner…it finally went back to looking Asian when I turned 17. It was only recently that I realized it must have been puberty and hormones. Anyway, I’ve tried every length as well and have finally settled on a slightly past shoulder length layered style that I intend to keep for as long as I possibly can. I’m with you on the power of a good hair day – it can mask any blotchiness in my face, any weight gain around the middle…beautiful, bouncing hair is pure magic!
Ah, Cecilia. Hair as camouflage for a bit of roundness where we might not want it or we simply imagine it. Hair… our secret weapon!
I connected with a great hairdresser a few years ago and I truly believe good hair can really boost confidence. I know it puts an extra umph in my step-up.