My Silver Hair Journey

Let’s begin at the beginning shall we?… It’s 1999 and I’m 33, just had my second daughter (I have two), I’m carrying extra baby weight, I’m busy clucking around in mummyhood, finding my at-home-mum clothing style, making new mummy friends, and… bam! The wiry grey hairs begin to sprout en mass. I’m mortified! I’ve recently kissed goodbye to my former self… a successful music journalist, an independent woman, flying back and forth from the states to interview the hottest artists of the day in what was then called ‘black music’. A career I’d planned on returning to one day, but how could I return as a grey haired mama? It wasn’t even an option. I immediately went to my local hairdresser and requested they obliterate each and every grey hair that threatened to scream my age to the world… and so began the battle for supremacy of my hair colour. Fast forward to 2016 (50 years old), and I am no longer forking out for the expertise of the hair salon… I have been dying my hair at home fortnightly. I’m now a single mother of two teenagers… a busy working single mum… in the music industry…  an industry that is trying to find its feet in a new digital landscape, and places huge value on the young who are forging that landscape. To my mind I'm looking pretty good, skin isn't wrinkling, don't need glasses, still got my own teeth... lol... but those silvers! My hair grows quickly, and I’m so paranoid about my colleagues catching me out on my dirty little secret that as soon as my silvers begin to twinkle at the root (around a week after dying) I cover up with anything… a headband, a scarf, a baseball cap. In addition to hiding my silver roots, I’m hiding my age… I’m much older than my colleagues think, and I’m determined for it to remain that way. This had been going on since I returned to work… for years!!!

In 2016, I had an operation, which required 6 weeks home recovery. For the best part of that year, my daughters, fed up of the smell and mess of my home dying routine, had been pushing me to stop. Young women had begun a trend of dying their hair grey… and it appeared to my daughters that I would be bang on trend with my natural hair colour. With 6 weeks at home and my silver roots beginning to glisten I became curious to see just how much ‘tinsel’ I actually had… and exactly what colour it was. I still had reservations about how I’d be perceived at work… and I was also single at the time too. I was 50… the pool of single men my age was small! With my dyed hair I had the advantage of attracting both older and younger men... Would any man, of any age, find a woman with grey hair attractive? I didn't think so. 

The badger stripe stage

Towards the end of the 6 weeks I could see that the new growth was quite an incredible colour…. It twinkled proudly around my hairline and in my centre parting. And whilst I could see the potential, I had a long way to go yet. During what I call the ‘Badger Stripe Stage’, I had zero support from anyone other than my daughters. If it wasn’t for them I don’t think I would have had the resolve to continue beyond the first 6 weeks. Strangers would stare… and friends would try to look everywhere but at my new growth when talking to me. For work I covered up. I just wore a headband or a hat. I felt very alone on my hair journey, I wasn’t aware of anyone going through what I was going through. However, I expected my hairdresser to have some knowledge of hair transitioning. I decided to seek help. I had come up with the idea of ‘blending’ my old dyed hair with my new growth by dying my dark ends grey…. Young women were dying their hair grey after all… surely this could be achieved.

Blending stage

Bewildered! The only way to describe the expression on my hairdresser’s face when I took my hat off to reveal my badger stripe. “We could dye the roots a medium brown (my ends were a dark brown), and begin blending it that way?... but I wouldn’t recommend lightening your dark ends.” To my mind she just didn’t understand what it had taken to get to this stage. Why would I dye my roots, when it had taken every ounce of tenacity, of determination to ride through the moments of humiliation I had felt during my transition? My response? A swift “Thanks, but no thanks.” and I was out of there. On my way home I called my daughter who had been bleaching her buzz cut blonde for a few months now… “Bleach my ends for me when I get home please babe?”. “Sure.” she said. 

Nothing could be worse than the badger stripe, surely! 

A chemical reaction? I’m really not sure, but what I now know from experience is that when you bleach hair that has already been dyed dark the result is orange hair… and I mean orange… yup Ronald McDonald orange! So I now had the horror of emerging from my bathroom sink with about an inch of silver at the root and bright Fanta orange ends! If I hadn’t fallen about in fits of giggles with my daughter, I would have cried. A return visit to the hairdresser brought a collective gasp of horror from her, her colleagues and the clients sitting in the seats. “We could try toning it?” was her sheepish suggestion. “Yup! Anything…. I have work tomorrow. Please just do what you need to do.” After a couple of attempts with toner we got the orange to settle at a brassy, bleached blonde colour… phew! However, the texture left a lot to be desired… it was the texture of cotton candy and almost as fragile. I paid the hairdresser, donned my hat and headed home traumatised.

To chop or not to chop

I spent the next 18 months or so experimenting with products, braiding, diffusing, straightening… but mostly wearing hats and scarves and deliberating about whether to go for the big chop or not. I was falling in love with my natural silvers… they were silky, strong and resilient and stood proud, meanwhile the ends were weak and literally fraying. I decided to be patient and let my natural hair get to a length where I could wear it in a ponytail before I was going to rid myself of the tatty ends. It took almost two years to finally have my silver crown in its entirety. I didn’t celebrate… I didn’t post about it on social media. I just braced myself and then eased into society. 

Silver Magic

By now I was in love with my silvers, but I was still uncertain how people would view me, after all a fear of being labelled ‘old’ had held me hostage to the dye bottle for almost 2 decades. I could never have imagined what was to come… I call it ‘silver magic’.  I was greeted by the world with such positivity, at times it’s been overwhelming as I’ve never been very good at receiving compliments. Women young and old regularly stop me just to kindly tell me how much they love my hair. I’ve had the loveliest interactions with the sweetest people over the past 2+ years. I’m asked frequently if I dye my hair, which is ironic as I wasn’t asked this once when I actually did. More ‘silver magic’ was to come when in June 2019 (roughly 6 months after my full silver crown debut), my hair caught the attention of a casting agent who jumped out of a car to stop me in the street. Would I “....be interested in modelling?” she asked. “We don’t have anyone who looks like you on our books and we are getting more and more jobs coming through.” she continued. “Of course!” I said. “Let’s make some magic happen!” A month or so later I went for my first casting and to my surprise I got the job! My photo was in-store, in newspapers, on an app and on huge billboards across the nation! Getting this opportunity, motivated me to continue to be visible. I have been on Instagram since 2013, but always private. I decided to go public with my page in May 2020. That decision was based partly on the response to my hair in real life, but more so by a realisation that I simply wasn’t seeing people who looked like me in the beauty and fashion world. Whilst brands were of course happy to take my hard earned cash, I rarely saw my generation represented in any marketing or advertising, and on the rare occasion that I did it was only silver haired, slim, white women… beautiful, but there was zero diversity. It seemed the younger generation had that covered, but Gen X had some work to do. I figured I could use social media to be visible, and to be vocal about the importance of representation. I expected to connect with like-minded women, which I did. I also stumbled across the ‘silver sister community’, who are a wonderfully supportive group of silver haired women of all ages normalising silver hair by celebrating it on social media. More ‘silver magic’ came along within weeks of going public on Instagram. I was approached by four model agencies, and in July 2020 I signed with one of them. Like me the agency were all for shaking things up in fashion and beauty, and creating what I call an “authentic silver space”. By that I mean a space occupied by Gen X that is diverse in body type, skin colour, body ability etc. Helping to galvanise Gen X and shaping this space for the next generation is my mission.

Ooh.... and if you're wondering about the dating thing… back in 2016, before I took the plunge, I was discussing ditching the dye with a male friend. I'd mentioned my concerns about being a grey haired spinster, left on the shelf for all eternity. He asked, "... but don't you think it'll filter the men from the boys?" "I don't know..." I answered.. "...only one way to find out!" I can now tell you that my silver hair attracts men who appreciate, not just my hair colour, but what it represents… honesty, bravery, and authenticity... and if that is of high value to the interested male it demonstrates a good quality in them whatever their age. Even more Silver Magic!