J’adore / J’abhor
This week's Muddy heated debate: whether or not to embrace a full head of grey hair. Eeeek! or chic? We duke it out.
J’ADORE, says Muddy contributor, Lucy Foster
I have an admission to make. I want to go grey. No, no, you heard correctly: I actually want to go grey. But not grey as in bring out the Crocs and the dreamcatcher for the window, I mean cool grey, purposeful grey, edgy-I-still-rock-directional-clothes-and-turn-heads grey.
“Ah, but you can’t,” say the hairdressers – every single damn one I’ve ever asked.“ You’re too dark. Too much bleach. Your hair would just break.”
Curses! I am destined to slowly evolve into – I can’t hardly write the words – a middle-aged woman with straggly salt and pepper locks? Will I also have to wear cardigans? Will I? WILL I?
Because I think full grey is incredibly beautiful. And the shades, from an almost-white silver to a deep graphite, grey can match any skin tone. And coupled with the sort of clothes I could only dream of affording when I was 20 and owner of an untainted chestnut mane, it’s high of my list of looks to aim for.
It’s elegant. It’s classic. And nowadays, it doesn’t automatically mean five years from death. It means you’re embracing the inevitable process of ageing with poise and sanguinity – and in this day and age of butt lifts and Facetune, Lord knows we need more of that. I am 100 per cent in.
J’ABHOR, says Muddy founder, Hero Brown
OK, I know grey hair is a huge beauty trend, headed up (geddit?) by super-chic Vogue staffer Sarah Harris (google her and gawp). I know it looks ridiculously cool on insouciant twentysomething hipsters in Hackney. And I know it’s one of those things that – like the menopause and one’s boobs heading south – comes to us all as time ticks on.
But, as you may have noticed, I’m not a twentysomething Hackney hipster and just because something is inevitable it doesn’t mean I want to embrace it. And so I don’t. In fact I spent 30 minutes artfully arranging my pony tail and attacking my hairline with root retoucher before heading out to a party on Saturday night – time very well spent, in my opinion.
And that was only because I hadn’t managed to nab a salon colour appointment in time for my night out. Blitzing those greys gives me the perfect excuse to visit the hairdresser every six weeks for highlights. And, god, I love going to the hairdresser – free coffee and those moreish biscuits, two hours to read magazines uninterrupted, no pesky children to bother you and you leave looking refreshed, well-polished and like you can take care of business; your own and potentially everyone else’s. What’s not to like? It’s a confidence trick, sure, and an expensive one at that – but one I’m fully on board with. Going grey? No way, José.
What do you think? Adore or abhor?