This post was inspired by a comment to a post on my other blog, linked to this week’s Friday My Town Shoot Out theme: Self-portraits.
Shabby Girl commented that for some reason she always pictured me as a brunette. Actually, my hair colour has been something of an enigma even to myself over the years. It probably was to my mother as well, because back in the days when she cut my hair herself, she saved some locks and put into my photo album:
I was born with dark hair (see below), but by the time I was 1½ years old and had my first haircut, I was light blonde. At the age of five, I was more like medium blonde, and at 13 my hair was so dark that some might consider it brunette. (My passport from age 16 still says medium blond, though. )
I remained dark/medium blonde through my twenties and into my thirties. In my forties when I first began worrying over grey hairs I tried to better the colour from time to time (but without straying too far from my natural colour). In my fifties I gave up and decided to consider myself “ash blonde” until some day when I’ll have to drop the “blonde” part altogether…
Growing up - 2 years old!
13 going on 14
Twenty-One. (Sometimes I had braids!)
2012 (please do the math silently)
These days it depends a lot on the light – and perhaps my mood?? – what I see when I look in the mirror (blonde vs. grey). Two things there is no mistake about:
1/ I’m definitely not brunette.
2/ Even if I wished to, I would no longer be able to grow my hair to the length it was in my early twenties.
“My real hair color is kind of a dark blonde.
Now I just have mood hair.”