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There's A Hair Club For Men; How About A Blue Hair Club For Women? by Carol Wells

What can I say other than, "I plan ahead"?

I find myself, while experiencing the 'middle age' phase of my life, pondering over what I want to do later when exiting 'middle age'. For example, what to do with my hair as it, and I, age. Some women look fine in their 60's or 70's with their hair still sporting a perky, but dyed, red or brunette shade; what if I am not as fortunate?

I could consider switching to lighter shades of the hair coloring (currently in use) as a gradual weaning process. Yet, my mind drifts back to my childhood and the awe I had of some women in my hometown. You know the ones as I think every town has one or two at least, that go shopping or stand on the sidewalk gossiping with an acquaintance, with a mound of blue rinsed hair on top of their heads.

One day, out of the blue (no pun intended), I could merrily waltz home with my hair coifed and rinsed in a fashionable shade of blue. Oh sure, I realize this sight would startle my husband. I can easily imagine him struggling to act as if nothing is unusual about my hair.

Perhaps that could be incentive to go through with this bold act. No. There are more reasons why I may go 'blue' one day.

I could walk out to the mailbox, having the sun glint off the blue tinted strands appearing to others as if I captured a bit of the morning sky within my hair twenty-four-times-seven. I would hold my head up proudly with a smile to my lips. Especially when passing a young child out with their mother. How long would I manage to refrain from chuckling while hearing the excited voices? "Mom! Do you see that? That lady has blue hair!"

The mother would look around quickly; feeling slightly embarrassed while hoping no one, namely me, overheard the child's comments. "Shush! You shouldn't say things like that . . .."

"But, Mom, her hair is blue."

"Yes, I know, some women have blue hair . . . "

"Do some older men have blue hair?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"When I get old, will my hair turn blue?"

"No, it will turn gray or white."

"Why will my hair turn gray or white and not blue like that lady's hair did?"

I would smile as the young mother rolled her eyes in despair over her child's outspoken and never-ending curiosity. I could relate while remembering my own similar questions and comments that had my mother cringing while trying to change the topic.

My own children may look at me oddly while I do a simple pirouette and ask for their opinion of my new hair style. Imagine the shopping trips together; they will try to distance themselves from me in department stores to lessen the chances of having to introduce their blue-haired parent to friends or acquaintances.

They will sheepishly hand over pictures that [future] grandchildren drew of me with my hair a delightful Cornflower Blue or some other exotic shade only found in a Crayola® 64 pack. I will display the pictures on my refrigerator with the same pride and careful arranging that my children's artwork received when my hair only needed a traditional brown crayon.

My legs are short enough that I may be able to share an endearing driving trait of 'little old ladies' of zipping down the highway, at a blazing 15 miles an hour under the speed limit, clutching and hugging the steering wheel as if it were a long lost lover. Perhaps by that time I will have a CD player in the car. Other people would pass by bobbing their heads to the bass beat emanating from their car's stereo system, I could have Pinkard & Bowden's "Blue Hairs Driving In My Lane" set in a continual loop just for a lark.

I hope, when reaching the majestic 'blue hair eligibility' age, that the under-25 crowd tired of yellow, purple, pink, green, or other unnatural hair colors for their own heads. I do not wish to be confused being a late in life "Goth" or "punk"; nor viewed simply as 'rebellious'.

We, as females, when nearing 65 or so are entitled to decide if we want to go the optional blue rinse route. This had been made available to older women long before a bored teenager wanted to see what happened if they soaked his/her hair in a bowl of Kool-Aid®. Let alone years before Dennis Rodham touched a basketball.

Women in the past worked hard to help keep these options available for others and myself when we reached an older age. It is a thankless job, with the first blue haired woman's name missing from history. Likewise, no statue or special date set aside to celebrate or honor Blue Hairs through the years.

It is only fair that I seriously consider these 'optional goals' for my later years of life. I could politely decline without feeling selfish for not applying blue rinse to my locks. If I take this step, I want to stand out because I did not settle for traditional gray or white but decided to boldly carry forth a tradition of sorts for the next generation to be in awe of and, later, feel inspired.

In all honesty, no one would care if I burnt my bra when in my seventies. It may not even be noticeable that I was even wearing a brassiere thanks to the effects of gravity on the body. However, blue hair . . . now that would definitely be noticed!

The secret of staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age.
-- Lucille Ball (1911-1989)

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