A week or so before Halloween I had the brilliant idea to be Alice Cullen (from Stephenie Meyer's Twilight) for Halloween. This involved getting my recently decided to grow out hair cut, and coloring it black. This was kind of cool in my mind, on many levels. Firstly, I have often jokingly said I was going to color my hair black. Secondly, the costume itself was very subtle and I doubt that many people would notice my amazing fangs if it weren't for the black hair being such a tie-in to my character.
I had initially thought to get a temporary color, but I have a friend that did that and instead of just washing out it turned her hair purple (Anne of Green Gables anyone?) and I didn't really think that purple would be a good idea. Then the idea was that since my hair grows fast I would just color it, and then let it grow out. So I colored my hair, which was rather uneventful in and of itself, but then liked it enough (and got enough positive feedback) that I decided to recolor my roots when they had grown to the point that I couldn't ignore them anymore. That said, I have never noticed how fast my hair grows until I did this. So when school got out for Christmas I went home as a black-haired red-head. Needless to say, my parents and my grandma weren't very enthused about it and as it is only hair and not a lifestyle decision, or a pressing need to have black hair, I eventually gave in to my mom's pressuring to change it.
We juggled around some various options. Ranging from getting it stripped, to getting a weave, to doing something to it ourselves and eventually settled with the latter. Being the ever observant mother that she is, my mom suggested that we try a product she had seen called Color Oops, or something of that sort. We did that and my hair became an odd sort of weird orange-y brown mixed with black and my natural reddish roots. So we went to Walgreen's (on a very icy day, in which I did some parking lot acrobatics ending on my hands and knees), and got some more and did it again. This time it ended with a reddish something that didn't really look all that bad except for the stubborn black that remained on the top of my head. We then intended to color it a cinnamon brown and leave it at that, perhaps getting a weave later on. It turned a nearly black brown, except for the top of my head which remained black.
So we went to the beauty college. They wouldn't touch it, convinced that with all the stuff I'd done to it so recently it would melt or fall out. Great. Giving up and moving on and resolving never to color my hair black again (unless a large sum of money was involved), I went home.
Then today my mom was telling her hair stylist about the whole fiasco, and she wanted me to come in. So I went in and we discussed several options. She bleached my hair to a lovely chestnut brown.
So over the course of the week my hair has been stripped, dyed, bleached, and washed about thirty times. It's cleaner than it's ever been. The odd thing is that through all this my hair hasn't decided it's had enough and fallen out.
How many colors can my hair be in a week?