Grey Matters. Does It?

Pre-Christmas I had my my haircut. It was a red hot, dry, brittle mess and needed some TLC. I just had a wee trim and was joking with my hairdresser saying "If you find any grey hairs, tell me."

And then I expected her to say - "Oh Lexi, there's no grey hairs."

But alas, Kellie responded with "Oh yes I did just find one."

I was agog, I was aghast was my hair turning into an old lady's at last?

I almost fell out of my chair and asked her to show me this ruthless grey. She hunted around and found it. I asked her to pull it out. She declined. I told her to show me where it was - and I yanked that sucker out.

Just two weeks later, I asked my sister Sarah to check if I had any unruly greys. She found another.

This is Bad News Boulevarde.

And now this week? Two more of those crazy grey bastards. Assimilating with the rest of the brunettes as though they're meant to be there. 

What to do?

I'm having a quiet sad-on that they're out there, Mulder. I'm quietly going grey, and I hate it. I've studied why I hate it - because it's beyond my control. 

I know. I am Captain Ridiculous. With grey hairs. 

Something I Found In A Bin

It's been almost a year since my epic affair with someone else's bin, and so it seems only fit that I show you something else I found in a bin. A long time ago, but I've never mentioned it, until today that is folks.

Would you believe someone had tossed this little beauty out?

Along with this, I found a bag of fabric scraps, which was intermingled with a whole bunch of panty-hose (fancy crafty bank robbery anyone?) - which I declined to hold onto for fairly obvious reasons, a letter dated August 1971, and an awesome child's armchair which has gone to my brother-in-law in the hope that he might one day find some time to reupholster it for me, because damn fool, it's positively darling.

So I'm An Old Troll Am I?

just a shot of me getting my make-up done, via

Following on from my previous post, someone kindly told me I was an old troll. Of course they're hiding behind the old anonymous shield. But I think they had a typo - I think they meant doll.

My previous post wasn't a - woe is me, I'm almost 30, it was a - hey look at the way society is evolving. It was about the fact that I have 26 year old friends doing 'preventative' Botox in the hope it will make them look younger. It was a - hey - I've heard if from beauty editor's mouths - girls are getting younger and younger, and are looking for ways to stop time itself.

It was about the fact that I have a daughter (and heck, while I'm at it, my son's vulnerable too) and I don't want them to feel like they need to meet any aesthetic standard except their own.

In essence, it makes me shudder to think about the length some people go to preserve their looks.

Where and when did things change? I can blame a whole lot of things. But then really, we all have to point our fingers at ourselves in some ways. Media deliver things you and I 'want'. Magazine sales go up when they show pictures featuring models and superstars sans make-up. The catwalks show impossibly thin beauties pony-stepping. Madonna is a work in herself. Oh and here comes another 14 year old front cover beauty - I can't ever live up to those standards. Not to mention the photoshopping. Oh and did I mention - Botox has become an adjective?

There is no magic potion that stops wrinkles from appearing. But by looking after yourself, you can look your best. And by reading, eating well, exercising, laughing, living, you can live the best life you can. Nurture yourself. Love yourself. So I think that's what I was talking about... So Anonymous, thanks for giving me the opportunity to expand on my previous post.