Chic AF is a recurring column on Sudden Chic written by my mom, Karen Resta. Because she tells the best stories. Also, she has yellow hair. This is her second piece.
What Happens When You Have Bright Yellow Hair?
Life is full of adventures if you have bright yellow hair. The world opens up right in front of you in truly amazing ways. For example, before I had bright yellow hair people never called out to me in the street that they loved my hair! The people who do this are of all types – though most are younger rather than older. The male/female ratio is about equal, as is the cis/other gendered ratio.
What I see as a woman with bright yellow hair (also with a smile and a pretty good attitude in general) is how generous people can be when viewing something that sparks a little bit of happiness in them – even if it’s just a lady with bright yellow hair.
There are some psychically ugly people once in a while, of course, who purposely make negative remarks in a loud voice or falsely laugh very loudly, pointing at my hair to their friends. For the most part these people have been of two types: sad old heterosexual men who obviously have miserable lives, and loud young heterosexual teenage boys who obviously are in need of constant attention from whoever they can get it from however they can get it. These few crass people are definitely worth ignoring. And they are far outnumbered by the other type of people, each and every day.
Two people I think of fairly often: The guy in his thirties, a “wise guy” type from my neighborhood in Brooklyn. My neighborhood is not chic, it’s serious Brooklyn. This guy is as native as it gets, in this neighborhood. He looks scary, he’s loud and assertive, and you wouldn’t want to get in a fight with him.
I see him about six times a year, and every time, he walks close by me and smiles hugely, saying “Hey Buttahscotch! I love yer hay-ur!” It’s like the cannoli and the gun line . . . he’s become sweet instead of a hard-line killer in that moment, all because of bright yellow hair.
The other person I think of is a young women I met at a recent event. She’s in an entry level public relations position, and in a circle of women who were talking about brightly colored hair with me she turned to the woman next to her and said “Oh, I love bright colored hair too. BUT when one gets to a certain position in one’s career one just can’t DO that.” Well, fine, I thought . . .then instantly forgot her because she looked exactly like the other two young women she stood near . . . all had long mousy brown hair that sort of hung there along with no physical features that would make one remember her. It’s only her slightly ridiculous remark I remember . . . but I probably only remember that from my management training at Goldman Sachs, where I became a VP. Good luck, sistah! Is my final thought on that.
For many years I’ve been haunted by the memory of the old people who used to gather at the (then) “new” Burger King on Montague Street in Brooklyn Heights. They gathered in a corner of the restaurant each afternoon, looking as if they’d been discarded. Nowhere to go, nothing too much to say (they were always pretty quiet, sipping one coffee the entire afternoon, and I don’t remember ever seeing one of them smile, ever). It seemed as if they were out of the real loop of any actual life. Whether they’d chosen to live their days gathering sadly at a fast-food place for whatever comfort that gave them, or whether life had just worn them down to that point, I don’t know. And not one of these human beings would be recognizable from any other like them on the street, they’d become that invisible thing: “old people”.
I now wonder, if one of them had decided to color their hair bright yellow, would that have made a difference in their life? Would they again be one of the living?
And I do I think it’s quite possible.
Next week, for those who are curious about how to get bright colored hair, I’ll talk about the process in detail.
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