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When I was 11 or 12, my cousin decided to dye his hair blue-black. I was at his house at the time, and so my aunt decided to give me a blue-black streak, too. At first, it wasn't anything much; but, after it was done, I remember marvelling at it. I loved the 'magic' the dye had done; I loved how I could make myself look different. And that was just with one streak!! However, the streak soon faded, and I wasn't tempted to dye it again.Then, a little later in the year, I went to see one of the Harry Potter films with my friend. We dressed up: I went as Ginny Weasley, which meant dyeing my normally-blonde hair. Again, I marvelled, but it still wasn't anything big. I was dipping my toes in the sea of hair dye- but I wasn't ready to take the plunge.
Flash forwards a year, to when I was 13. For whatever reason, I decided I wanted more black streaks, so my mum and aunt attempted to lowlight my hair... Long story short, it resulted in a whole head of black, with grey roots. I convinced my mum to let me touch up the roots, but that was meant to be it. No more hair dye. At all. End of. Umm, until the next Harry Potter film, when I lightened my black hair with lemon and tried to make it red. I think that's when the hair dye bug started to take hold- when I realised the endless opportunities, to change my hair according to occasion and as the mood took me. There was just one more step to go...
At my secondary school, hair dye was okay- but unnatural colours were a definite no-no. So, when I decided I wanted to dye my hair pink, I couldn't just go ahead and buy the dye. I had to wait until school broke up for the summer- when I instantly dyed my hair (and body!) pink.
After that, I kept it black for quite a while. However, I was desperate to be able to experiment further. In summer 2013, two things happened. Firstly, I shaved my hair off- making it easier and cheaper to dye my hair. Secondly, I was free of secondary school and uniform rules. Heck, that was basically permission to dye my hair as absurdly as possible!!
For months, I experimented far and wide, going every colour under the sun- including a festive red/green in the run up to Christmas. In the New Year, the dyes became less frequent, but change still occurred. I found favourite dyes (Live XXL is good; I detest anything L'Oreal), swapped hair tips with strangers (my favourite moment was bumping into two other people with the same hair colour as me; we swapped to discuss products) and discovered hair colour likes and dislikes (I like purple but my hair doesn't; I absolutely loved red at the time but it now has bad memories; pink is forever my favourite and go-to). Hair dye is a world far more complex than you would think, and not one I plan on leaving anytime soon.
But- but why? Why do I do it? Well, for one, I love the anticipation- choosing the colour I think will work best, rinsing it off and trying to gauge colour, then seeing the end result. Linked to that is that it's a good distraction- when I'm feeling crap, dyeing my hair gives me something else to occupy myself and it's a nice change. I get quite bored quite easily- and changing my hair is one way to avoid that. In addition, I see hair dye as a bit part of my expression. I am colourful and loud; my hair is no exception! I am on a journey to body positivity, but I am not there yet, so looking into a mirror and being able to at least like the colour of my hair is a big thing. What's more, it's sociable- if you have unnaturally coloured hair, you become part of a group. You get told by strangers that they like your hair. You stop others to ask what dye they use. It's great
In short, hair dye, to me, is change, positivity, freedom and expression. Bright, unnatural colours- and the dye that brings them- are as much a part of me as my nose or my legs: I would not be me without them.
