The unbearable lightness of job-searching

The pain of blending your gray after your hairdresser retires, or, do I go gently into that good night?

A little bit of flair – a purse of leopardo, even when you are selling fresh fish, makes the day better. Beauty belongs everywhere.

I heard you guys. I read what you said when I raged against The Patriarchy and whether I keep coloring my hair er no. Does coloring my hair mean I am succumbing to Them? Or can I reclaim my power?

You said I can do whatever I darn well please.

Thank you.

I decided OK then. I might keep coloring my hair.

Especially because I am looking for a new job and two-inch roots are not a good look on me.

But then my hairdresser retired.

Oh the pain of retirement.

Our doctor retired. Our vet retired. (How we loved our vet. How sad we are that a chain vet clinic bought his practice and we have not seen the same vet twice since Dr Z retired.) Our postman is about to retire.

And then our hairdresser retired. (Yes, Mr T and I shared a hairdresser. Carol was great.)

Carol retired even though she was our age. Her husband is a little bit older and he had a good union job and could retire early and they thought, You know, people get sick. They get disabled. They die. We have enough. How much do we need, really? We can do it. Let’s retire now.

And they did the right thing. How much good does more money do you if you are dead? Unless you are madly in love with your profession and it brings you great joy and fulfillment, if you don’t need more money, what is the point of working?

But that meant I didn’t have a hairdresser.

And I think we all know the pain of finding a new hairdresser.

I think it’s easier to find a new doctor. If you mess up with a doctor, you just die. But if you mess up with a hairdresser? YOU LOOK AWFUL AND THE WHOLE WORLD SEES IT.

Carol retired in September. She gave me the cards of two other stylists, but the cards had only phone numbers.

I called one of the stylists. She didn’t answer and I had to leave a message. And I had to wait for her to call me  back. And of course I didn’t hear the phone ring when she called back because I keep my phone turned off because I hate talking on the phone and the only  calls that are allowed to go through on my phone are Mr T’s and my mother’s.

So I had to call her back again. And then turn off “Do not disturb” and WAIT FOR HER TO CALL ME BACK.

And then she wouldn’t give me a price over the phone – depends on the length of my hair, she said.

And figuring out an appointment. When did our calendars coincide?

Lord. Have. Mercy.

I asked if she had an email address or if I could text her.


I can’t work like that.

I cannot conduct my 21st century life using 20th century technology.

I don’t even call my mother, for crying out loud, and I LOVE HER MORE THAN I LOVE ANYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD.

OK. I do call her. But only because she is my mother and she likes to talk to me.

But I for sure do not intend to start a phone relationship with someone new at this point in my life.

So. I did what any rational person would do.

I solicited input from all my local friends and ignored it and went to SuperCuts because you don’t have to make an appointment.

I tested the haircuts first.

Let me back up.

When I was in grad school and had no money, I went to SuperCuts. And you know what? My haircuts were fine. I went to the same person every time and she cut my hair perfectly every time.

So even though a bad haircut can ruin your day or your week? A bad haircut can be fixed.

And hair does grow.

So I read the reviews for the SuperCuts near us, including the reviews for color, and they were good and I thought, I will try one haircut and see how it goes.

So I went.

And I tested.

And it was fine.

So I went back. And had another haircut. And it was also fine.

And on Monday, I took the big plunge. I looked at my two-inch roots and I looked at my job-hunting situation (I want a new job for many reasons) and I looked in the mirror and thought, “Is this the best face I can present for a first impression?”

The answer was no.

So I took a deep breath and reminded myself that bad color can happen anywhere (except NEVER WITH CAROL WHO RETIRED) and that bad color can be fixed and I drove to SuperCuts and guess what?


And I will keep coloring my hair and screw you patriarchy you will not keep me down.



3 thoughts on “The unbearable lightness of job-searching

  1. Well, yeah! Take your newly colored – and great looking hair – and find a new job! then you can let it grow out … if you want. Great result.


  2. That’s awesome! I plan on colouring my hair until I retire next year…then, I’ll see. If I was job hunting, I would definitely dye my hair. If you’re near 60, people are leery of hiring you. The patriarchy, I know.


  3. Glad you found a new hair place! I found my hairdresser when I found my “new” job (they offered discounts for my employer 😉 So I’ve been with her 12+ years. I color my own hair, though – have done since I was 16. I switched to semi-permanent a couple years ago so I don’t have the root grow out the way it was with permanent color. I feel I can be lazier – when I finally get frustrated with how much gray is “shining through”, I’ll color again (I go 2-3 months, usually)


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