Okay lovers. I pride myself on being honest on this here blog. And thus it is time for me to fill you in on the latest disaster in the life of Jordan Marisa Rose. And believe me when I say it was the worst kind of disaster.
A HAIR DISASTER.
Oh yes. Have you noticed the posts lately have been a little sparse on photos of my face? I would say in the past month or so, VERY few posts have included photos of the Queen. As you regular readers know, this is quite unusual - usually, I take every opportunity to include pictures of myself looking adorable, gorgeous, silly, you name it...
Anywho. There is a reason for this nonsense. And that reason is TERRIBLE HAIR.
I’ll lay it out for you. We’ll do a little case study, if you will. This may be a little long, but I’m viewing this post as hair therapy, so bear with me please....
This is a photo of me taken August 20, 2010, hours after getting my hair professionally dyed:
And this is a photo of me taken August 21, 2010, one day and one shampoo after getting my hair professionally dyed:
Major difference, right? In ONE single shower, my hair color faded. You can totally tell - it went from a rich chocolate brown to a sort of deep auburn. I was not pleased. That’s why, about a month ago, in a fit of inspiration (which I now regret more than anything in the universe maybe with the exception of certain boys I dated who were truly hazardous to my mental health), I decided to have my mother dye my hair with a drugstore box of hair dye. My reasoning behind this was why continue to spend hundreds of dollars professionally dyeing my hair, if I could spent $8.99 on a box and do it at home? They were both going to fade anyways. Why not save myself a couple hundred bucks?
So. I brought home the hair dye and let my mother do it in the bathroom.
UM. YEAH. That did not go exactly as planned. My mother is a woman of many skills, and is good at nearly every single thing in the world, but dyeing hair is not one of them. She got dye in my eye, in both ears, all over my neck, and ALL over the bathroom floor, but not enough on my actual head. Thus, when I had finally showered and blown out my hair, the dye job was not up to par. It was, shall we say, patchy. There were spots where you could see my old red hair through the new color (a deep brown).
That’s when the real drama started. A week later, I dragged my patchy head of hair to my hair salon, and asked my hairdresser to fix it. I asked her for a rich, chocolate brown shade. Those were my exact words.
YOU GUYS. I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED, BUT MY HAIR TURNED BLACK.
Yes, you read that right. BLACK. Licorice and thundercloud and killer whale black. BLACK AS NIGHT.
Needless to say, I had quite the nervous breakdown. Without going into details, you can be sure that I spent HOURS crying hysterically in front of the mirror. Finally, my mother got tired of the weeping, and called my hairdresser.
You’ll never believe her solution. She said it was supposed to be a quick fix for stripping hair of color dyed too dark. I was desperate, so I tried it.
Yup. TIDE. I washed my hair with LAUNDRY DETERGENT. TWICE.
I imagine right now you’re all staring at your computer screens in horror. WHAT? The Queen washed her hair with LAUNDRY DETERGENT? (This also might be where some of you ask where I came across laundry detergent, seeing as doing my own laundry is not a particular skill of mine). But yes. I did. I was desperate. So I took a plastic cup full of Tide into my shower and I shampooed with it.
Honestly, it did strip my color a little. I could see as the water went down the drain that it was a little dark, meaning it was working a little bit. I did it twice (a few days apart), and then got too scared to do it again. I was too afraid it would ruin my hair. I’d rather have healthy black hair than damaged brown hair.
And now? My hair has lightened up considerably. Friends who saw the black hair situation have reassured me many times that it is much, much lighter than it was at first, which makes me feel good. (For reference, things that do not make me feel good: gasping out loud upon seeing my hair for the first time and saying “Oh my god, it looks terrible. You need to dye it back immediately!” Yes, that really happened, and yes, I spent an hour in the bathroom crying. Note to all of you: please say something kind and flattering when you see me in person. Or you are rude.)
But for now I am at peace. I am sure my hair will continue to lighten until it gets to the point where I am able to cover it with a semi-permanent coat of either red or lighter brown. So while I wait for that day, I have come up with a new way of combatting hair depression.
This weekend I went back and got a new set of Shimmerlys. That’s right, now if you see me walking around, that extra sparkle is NOT just my shining personality, although that is there in spades, I promise. No, no, I now have a head full of BRIGHT PURPLE GLITTER HAIR EXTENSIONS!
YAYYYY sparkle hair! Having hair that quite literally glitters whenever I toss my head makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. I’m still not happy with the color of my hair, but the sparkle hair extensions do help. At the very least, they make me smile when I look in the mirror :)
I’m sure you all got a nice chuckle out of this story, and you should -- I live to entertain you -- but in the meantime, here are the lessons the Queen has learned:
1. Do not be cheap when it comes to dyeing your own hair.
2. If you are going to be cheap, do not let your mother dye your hair.
3. Be VERY specific at the hair salon. Like, six-photos-ripped-out-of-magazines specific.
4. Crying gets you nowhere. You will still have to shampoo with laundry detergent.
5. Sparkle hair extensions make everything better.