Women confronted with hair-color bias more than men
I've let my hair go gray- more white than gray-and now I'm having second thoughts and even feeling a bit angry about it because of some of the reactions I've received from well-meaning friends and family members.
I'd have thought the color of my hair was inconsequential-like whether I chose to paint my nails or not. But that's not the way this color change went down.
Perhaps my embrace of gray hair reminds people of similar years that they, too, are aging. If you don't have to stare at white hair in the mirror every day, it's easier to pretend you're young.
I made the decision to stop dying my hair for several reasons.
Mainly, it's a chore.
In order to keep up, I had to tackle the grays every three to four weeks. If I didn't follow through- and I've been struggling with this for two decades now-I ended up with the telltale skunk stripe down the middle of my head that let the cat out of the bag.
You see, I am no longer a natural brunette.
Several friends have asked me why I just don't keep a standing appointment at a hair salon to have my hair colored regularly. The answer is simple: I'd rather spend my time and money on other things. The cost to professionally dye my hair on a regular basis is $1,000 to $1,500 a year.
Are you not worth it? they ask.
Of course I am, but trust me, this isn't just a self-esteem issue. I'd rather dole out the money for professional massages, personal trainers, travel excursions, concerts and plays, exercise classes- anything but hair dye.
Of course there are plenty of inexpensive hair-color options at the grocery store, but let me reiterate that I have a long history of not keeping up with this particular task.
Then I'm asked, 'Why not go blond?' I wouldn't have to dye my hair so often if I were blond (as if blond equals gray). But as a once dark-haired, olive-skinned gal of Italian descent, I cannot picture myself as a blonde. I might as well go gray.
The bottom line is that I'm worth all kinds of fine treatment and, hair color notwithstanding, I still expect to be treated as a worthy individual.
Before I went all gray, people actually stared at my white roots before they looked me in the eye to say hello.
It's a dark day in the world of gray.
Young versus old
I'm told that gray hair makes women look older. But it's all a matter of perception, and the perception is that I am 56 (my age) or older. (God forbid I should look older than my age.)
A nurse I know who hadn't seen me in several years thought she was being helpful when she not-so-subtly shared a story about going gray.
The woman is about the same age as another nurse in her office. But, she said, the children (and their moms) request her services more often than those of the other nurse because my friend appears younger than her 54-year-old counterpart, who happens to have gray hair.
Could it be that my friend who dyes her hair is a friendlier, more competent nurse, or has a better bedside manner with children?
What if both of these workers were gray-haired?
Might families choose to bring their children to another pediatrician because of a hair-color bias?
And how about doctors?
If a doc in the office is a grayhaired male, would the color of his hair even come into question?
Can you imagine a man worried about clients being biased against him because he has gray hair?
It doesn't seem to be a bias that's hurt actor Richard Gere.
Let's face it, gray-haired men are still viewed as being distinguished and professorial (think Anderson Cooper). But isn't it passé that gray-haired gals are stigmatized as haggish, obsolete or irrelevant?
Gender bias based on hair color is a double standard that's gained widespread acceptance. We live in a culture that values looks and hair color over character and achievement. If we're asking the world to be color blind to skin, shouldn't the same goal apply to hair?
The funny thing is, I don't think that women in their 50s or 60s are fooling anybody about their age based on their hair color.
That's because judging age can be difficult under any circumstances.
How many years does gray hair really add? How many years does the dye subtract? And at what age does one's hair color finally become inconsequential?
I've seen women with perfectly coiffed and colored hair, but when I look into their faces-etched with the wrinkles of time and caked with too much makeup-I can still see they are old.
If you're female in the 50-plus range and you appear 10 years younger, perhaps you are genetically blessed, had surgery or use Botox. These are personal choices I would never condemn, just as I would hope others would choose not to condemn me.
Looking back, I wish I'd been quicker on my feet with a retort to the gray-haired naysayers, the ones who looked at me oddly upon seeing my dark-hair/gray-hair mishmash for the first time. But issuing off-color comments just isn't my style.
Next time, if you are appalled when you see somebody under 60 who has chosen to go completely gray, try to control the horror and say something nice, or don't say anything at all.
Show interest, not judgment.
Nobody, after all, is getting any younger.
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