Hair color relief, best banana bread recipe. Ever.
Pandemics are hard.
Step One: Wash Gray Out of Hair
I woke up the other morning and smelled Lorraine.
Let me explain.
Loraine is the color expert I visit every 5-6 weeks to keep the illusion going that I was born a blonde, without gray hair. I've been visiting her for over 20 years and in all that time, I don't think I've ever given her any actual instruction. I always like what she does and my usual joke is that even if I didn't, I'd still go visit Lorraine every 6 weeks. She's smart and funny and so good at making you feel like when you're in her chair, nothing else matters. That's a real gift.
When my gray hair really started to make its presence known a few weeks ago, I sent Lorraine a picture of my silvery part with the message: "It's happening." She suggested I buy some L'Oreal products and told me what number to look for, but when I went to buy them, they were sold out. "Bitches beat me to it," I texted her.
And then, I decided I'd just see what happened. "How bad could gray hair be?" I asked myself. "Maybe it would end up looking really cool."
There's a mom here in town who's smarter than all of us and decided to go gray like a year ago and she is cool enough to pull it off. She's got a super young face and great style and it comes off looking kind of chic.
My mom went gray really young and her hair is a beautiful silvery-white color that she's kept in a bob for decades and for as long as I can remember, it's been her crowning glory. People would compliment her all the time on her hair.
When I started coloring my own hair 20 years ago, she not-so-subtly tried to dissuade me from covering up my gray. I think she was insulted I didn't embrace aging hair follicles as she had. But I'm not graying the way my mom did. And my face could not be described as "super young."
So as my gray started creeping along my part and hairline , it just enhanced my current drab situation. It also did not help that I have not gotten a haircut since October so my hair is way too long for a 53yo woman. Or, at least, it's way too long for me.
I finally did get my hands on a box of L'Oreal color for MATURE HAIR, and began to prepare last Saturday morning for the process. But when I pulled all of the shit out of the box and instructions to rival the most complicated piece of IKEA furninture assembly (I'm thinking the MALM bureau), I hit pause and sent Lorraine a picture of the box's innards.
"When you realize your hair colorist's job is a lot harder than she makes it look," I texted her, and she immediately texted back and asked if she could call.
It turns out, Lorraine was just about to make custom color touch ups available for clients and asked if I could wait a few days. "We've come so far with your color, I'd hate to see you ruin it," she told me and I told her I'd happily wait for my own formula.
We chatted for a while and I told her I'd been feeling fat and cranky and she said I'd feel a lot better after I get my color fixed and I thought, "I think it's going to take more than that," but laughed and said, "I hope so!"
It turns out: Lorraine was right.
I picked up my "color relief," with some additional glaze for good measure, on Wednesday and headed home with a bag that included a brush, gloves, teabag, mints and printed out instructions. I'd been planning on having my daughter do my hair over the weekend until I read in the instructions that they recommend doing immediately or within 12 hours, latest.
"Bad news," I told my daughter who's been working full-time with two monitors in her tiny bedroom here. "We've got to do my hair tonight."
She was less than thrilled.
But she did an amazing job, sectioning off my hair and saturating the roots with the product. She wasn't as fun as Lorraine, but I was happy to get what I could get.
After 45 minutes of it sitting on my head. I jumped into the shower to rinse off and then sat back on the stool in my bathroom for my daughter to paint the glaze on sections of my hair. There was so much left over, she hopped on the bench and I glazed her hair, too. It was very satisfying, pretending I was Lorraine except I didn't look any where near as stylish as she does whenever I see her. She does not show up for work at the salon dressed in a bathrobe.
By the time all the coloring and glazing was finished, it was about 9:30 and my bedtime. I decided to forgo the hairdryer and put my wet hair in braids and went to bed. I woke up the next morning looking like Medusa, but man, it smelled good. I'd missed that fresh-from-the-salon-smell.
I texted Lorraine to tell her how good my color looked and smelled and that I would never take a trip to the salon for granted again.
"I feel like a new person," I told her.
I'd forgotten what a luxury it was to have someone else tend to me. Whether it's Nancy who works so hard to make my eyebrows look like something (and my mustache look like nothing). Or Esther who glues the fingernail on my right hand that is permanently split to keep it from catching on things (which it does all the time now). Or Nikki, who keeps my bikini area in check. Or Lorraine, who makes my hair look so nice, people often compliment me on its color.
I miss the whole damn village who'd been keeping my personal grooming house of cards upright for so long and am so sorry that this pandemic has shuttered so many salons and shut down so many services.
I can't wait for their doors to reopen and start building that facade back up. I've had enough of these au natural toenails, I'll tell you.
As I see it, I've got about five weeks before the gray rears its ugly head and I'm pretending to be Lorraine again.
The clock is ticking.
In case you're wondering: my dogwood tree is still amazing.
Friday Faves
You think you know banana bread? You know nothing, Jon Snow. This recipe will make you rethink banana bread. Someday, my grandchildren will be begging me to bake them my famous banana bread. It will be legendary. Now you can be a banana bread legend, too. (Note: the turbinado sugar crust on top is everything.)
This Trader Joe's popcorn is everything (are you sensing a theme here?) It's a bizarre mixture of smoky, tangy and sweet flavors. It's especially fun to watch people's faces as they begin to chew their first handful and their tastebuds register the weirdness. Enjoy.
If you have college kids, or soon-to-be-college kids (or even, like me, rising seniors), here's an interesting look at what school might look like in the fall.
LOCALS: We ordered the Chicken Parm Dinner for 4 from Tavolo Pronto in Fair Haven last Friday night, and while I get paid to do some social media work for them, I am not getting paid to tell you it was amazing. We were still talking about it the next day. Comes with big salad, pasta, nice bread and dessert. Even the salad dressing was good and in demand when we dug in for leftovers. Highly recommend.
Two words: Michelle Obama. Wait, two more: Netflix's Becoming. Oh, shoot. Two more: So good.
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