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My first new item in quite some time is up at the shop, with more to follow for the week. She's called "A Shock of Pink" and was inspired by my own hair coloring antics. I used to color my hair often, and while I've been jonesing to add a shock of color back for some time, I simply can't right now with grad school connections and full-time job interviews looming around the corner. I made this lady so I could relive those days, and imagine for a moment that the professionals in my life would appreciate a pink streak or two in my mane.
When I decided to color my hair the first time (blue), I knew I would get some stares and maybe some comments. After all, throughout my childhood I remember my Mom telling me, "People who do things like that are just starved for attention. They're just doing it to get attention from you and it's obnoxious." I hope she's since changed her mind. I didn't do it for the attention; I really just love unnatural color against natural things. It's kind of like fashion where you mix brights with neutrals because together they make a bigger and more beautiful impact than either could alone. Regardless, the hair did get quite a bit of attention.
Children were the most upfront about it. They yelled things like, "Mommy, she has rainbow hair!" Or, "Ooo... can I have hair like hers?" as their mothers shushed them, dragging their babies away from the obnoxious woman looking for attention.
Then there were the adults. I learned from the whole hair thing that people really do see colors differently. My blue was often labeled green. Purple became blue. Pink was red or raspberry or maroon, even as it faded to an obvious shade of magenta. Oh, and they always wanted to touch it. Without asking. As though dyeing my hair meant I wanted strangers touching my head. They don't approach little old ladies with blatant dye jobs and immediately grab for their hair, do they?
Not that my hair and I didn't have good times together, especially the pink. I had a lip stain in the exact color as my hair, which looked so smashing together. I also had pink streaks for both proms, although the color was really set off by my senior prom dress (a black Betsey Johnson with pink embroidered roses). However, my favorite thing might be that the boy next to me in the senior yearbook had green hair while I had my pink, immortalizing us in all our glory (and in full color). I think he's in the Navy now, which makes two of us who had to leave our color in the past.
By the way, the pouch can be found:
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