What is this obsession with hair about? Either it's too straight, too curly, too thin, too thick, or too gray. Women (and some men) apologize endlessly and make excuses for their hair----think of all the "bad hair day" jokes and cartoons. And if you're anywhere near my age, think of how much time has been wasted considering the nuances of hair.
Men often pride themselves on what's on top of their heads, experiencing varying degrees of crisis as they adjust to losing their hair or its turning gray. Some men grow facial hair as compensation or shave it all off, choosing the bowling ball look over the patchy one.
Of course, a whole industry exists to support people's vanity over their hair, barber and beauty shops ubiquitous in our towns and cities, all with the promise of making a person more handsome, prettier, more youthful looking.
Figuring out how to "properly" BE one's age is difficult, as one all-too-quickly discovers when, for example, she realizes she's no longer considered by any segment of society to be young. At 55, in fact, the young consider you old, while one's peers mostly still refer to you as middle-aged (though with a doubtful and sometimes pessimistic reference to "feeling old" at times).
My mirror tells me I am beginning to look like my mother as I remember having noticed her suddenly looking older, the sagging jowls, the creeping neck, the thinner skin, the parchment-wrinkled hands and blue veins beginning to show, the wirey gray hair she finally let grow out. In my youthful arrogance, I remember feeling a little angry at her, as if she should DO SOMETHING about all these things! Stave off disintegration a little longer, Mother!
My own friends----who range in age from young to old----are responding to their aging in different ways. So far, I am tending to just let it happen to me (though I've spent my fair share of cash on eye creams and such while spending more time than I should questioning all of the hoopla), and listening to my husband Jon as he calls me "beautiful" and "young girl with gray hair" and other such endearing (and, I have to say, mostly unbelievable) sentiments.
But it's our HAIR that seems to take the brunt of our self-criticism and the burden of making us (and others) think we are younger. Think of those ads for men and women for the hair dye that shows a progression from gray to darker hair, and how "She looks ten years younger!" after the hair has been dyed.
All of this causes me to wonder why so many mostly intelligent people can continue to hold such negative preconceptions about "older" people and to sadly lump each other into these little categories, rather like a syllogism: she has gray hair, therefore . . . What? She's less worthy? Less beautiful? Less interesting? Has her personality, her very being turned gray along with her hair? Is she fading into oblivion with her hair color?
And it's not just the topic of the color of hair on a woman's head that's been bothering me, either. What of our equally bothersome fetish of not having any hair on our legs or under our arms? What's that all about (besides lining corporations like Gillette's pockets and catering to men's desires to have their women unnaturally smooth like little girls)?
I still flaunt my gray hair, but even after all of this, I do shamefully wonder on occasion whether I'd "look ten years younger" by dying it. Until yesterday, I had hairy legs, but I decided to use Nair on the damned things because I was spending more energy hiding my legs than on enjoying not having to shave them. I'm one of those women with rather thick, dark hair on my calves (certainly not one of the lucky blondies), and I was unwilling to feel the ire of humanity at their sight, so now that I want to join our local swimming pool, I succumbed to the pressure rather than feel like a leprous outcast.
What's with this ridiculous focus on hair?!
