Thursday, December 21, 2023

Who are My 60? Let Me Don a Plastic Tiara and Tell You



The decade birthdays
 make me reflective.

As I approach my 60th birthday, I have had more than a few friends ask whether I will celebrate another “Year of Judy” as I did when I turned 50. In case you missed that marvelous (at least to me!) 12-month celebration, my 50th year started off with the creation of business cards announcing that I was “Celebrating the Year of Judy”—I didn’t leave any doubt that 2014 was all about moi.


Business cards were only the beginning. I took a plastic 50th Birthday tiara with me everywhere—no exaggeration—and would pop that plastic monument to my age on my head and snap selfies with all who would tolerate my drama. I did not do this for one day. I did this ALL YEAR. I dubbed those who allowed me to take a selfie with them “Tiara Victims.”

Most people humored me. If I am honest with myself, I was often met with good-natured (I hope!) eye rolling. My husband tried to shame me for accepting free movies, meals, and desserts in honor of my birthday long after my birth date passed. I just shrugged it off and reminded him that “I am 50 all year!”

I was honored to be celebrated by a fabulous group of girlfriends who arranged a weekend at the The Omni Homestead Resort in Hot Springs, VA. What fun! We all wore plastic tiaras and feather boas which molted all over the historic hotel. We danced and got spa treatments and just enjoyed each other’s company.

Women know how to celebrate other women. We sometimes get a bad rap for allegedly being bitchy and competitive—and that does happen—but most of the women I know are lovely and supportive.

I turned 40 while living at Fort Campbell, KY (Tony was deployed to Iraq) and another group of terrific women (there was some overlap in these two groups!) “kidnapped” me for a weekend of fun in Nashville. There was a boa and tiara involved for that celebration too.

So, now that 60 is mere weeks away, I want to celebrate (God willing) my sixth decade by honoring the women who have lifted, inspired, and mentored me on my life’s journey. I choose to celebrate my 60th birthday by honoring the women who loved and cheered me into the person I am now—the 60 great women who helped me to 60!

Me & my guy 10 years ago.
Me & my dad, who knew
 how to celebrate birthdays!







This in no way should detract from the wonderful men in my life, starting with my guy of nearly 40 years, who always has my back (although he prefers my front ๐Ÿ˜‰). I won the lottery when I married Tony at just 20 years old (he was 22, although he often fibs that he is younger).  Then there is our son, four grandsons, my brother, father, and other fabulous men who have made an impact on my life, but this is about the ladies.

I thank each of these strong, wonderful women. I plan to blog about some of their stories throughout my 60th year. It was important for me to declare and celebrate the Year of Judy when I turned 50. I was a recent empty nester just finding my footing when our children no longer required my complete focus—our adult children might argue that they still have too much of my “momming” attention!

I have turned another of life’s corners in the last decade. I am a retired woman of leisure living life on the road with my guy. Each day is all about Judy! Now, it feels like the right time to celebrate others…so…this year is the “Year of the Chicas!”

Some of the Chicas who helped me celebrate 50.

I could have chosen “Amigas” or “Ladies,” but the term Chicas is more authentic to who I am. If I count you among my good friends, odds are I have referred to you as “Chica” or called and left a voicemail that starts (ok, screams) “Chica, Chica, Chica!” 

Watch out, 2024 is the 
Year of the Chicas!


But Wait, There’s More…

Those who know me can probably guess that I have already ordered a plastic 60th Birthday tiara. I do love taking selfies with Tiara Victims. Why plastic? —you might wonder. A fancier tiara might imply that I take the whole crown thing seriously. I love to laugh at myself and wearing a plastic tiara (frankly wearing almost any headwear) cracks me up.๐Ÿ˜‰ I hope to laugh my way through my sixties or as long as I am blessed to grace the planet.

Just a few of my Tiara Victims...





























Saturday, December 2, 2023

Jumping into the Silver Pond

Against the advice of at least one friend, I am plugging my nose, holding my breath, and jumping into the pool of going natural. Yep! I have decided to embrace my gray hair. For such a small thing—in the big scheme of life—that decision was a difficult one for me.

As with almost everything I do, going gray started with a quick Google search. The results were frightening. Looking up synonyms for gray hair, I found “showing characteristics of age, especially having gray or white hair.” The rest of the list was more disturbing: “gray-haired, gray-headed, grizzly, hoar, hoary, white-haired and old.”

Hoary?? Apparently, hoary means grayish white, but the slang meaning is “no longer humorous, interesting or meaningful.” What???

One study shows that 72 percent of women find men with gray hair “hot.” I could find no such study for men who find women with gray hair attractive. Not that I need to be attractive to random men—that clearly hasn’t been my life’s goal! But I don’t want to look or feel OLD. Not to myself or my guy—who by the way, rocks silver hair and is HOT.

My friend, Trish the Dish, has warned me that I should reconsider going gray. “About the gray hair,” she recently said. “Always remember that really young-looking handsome man you are married to. Just saying! The streaking looks great, but total gray??? Just saying. Love you!” With a well-earned nickname like Trish the Dish, I would be wise to heed her advice, yet…here I go!

As with every major decision in my life, I did some soul searching and research. I am tongue-in-cheek when I call this a decision major, but transitioning to gray hair after decades of coloring my hair is not a minor decision! We have all seen the sad results of bad hair grow out.

Let’s just talk about the word “transition” for a moment. My husband has asked me to stop sharing that I am “transitioning”—especially in my usual loud voice. “They didn’t hear you in the kitchen,” he will tease me at restaurants when I am oversharing—who me? One sweet stylist suggested I substitute the word “blending” for “transitioning.”

Tony and I have travelled to 23 states in our first year of living in our Airstream and I have had my hair colored in 12 of those states. I am usually at a salon for at least one or two hours and have paid between $70 to $250 before the tip. As I met each new stylist, I would inquire about transitioning (or blending!) to gray. The stylists’ opinions and strategies varied as much as the states where they lived and worked.

 “Don’t do it!”

“Go blond first.”

“Highlights.”

“Lowlights.”

I have talked about whether to go gray so often that my husband refuses to listen to anything involving hair color. Tony’s running joke anytime he doesn’t listen to me (and let’s be honest, after 40 years of marriage, that’s often!) is, “I am sorry. I thought you said, ‘hair color’ and I tuned out.” Tony’s apparent lack of interest or opinion seems in line with one study I found that showed that men do not seem to care about women’s gray hair as much as women assume they would. I am sure there is a good joke in there…

Before I decided to pull the silver trigger, I sought the counsel of a few of the women I think rock their natural hair color. My silver sisters were kind enough to share their journeys to the gray side.

Silver Sister Wisdom:

 ร˜  “I started turning gray at 50 and dyed it for years. My hair grows so fast that within a week I had gray roots and a mini skunk line. My hairdresser did highlights and lowlights for months, that way the lines were hardly visible. It was an easy transition with a good hairdresser. Once you are gray, be sure to use the purple shampoos to keep it from being brassy. The newer purple shampoos don’t make the old lady blue hair like they did in our parents’ generation. You go girl! It really will give you a sense of freedom!”

 ร˜  “My original color was super dark, and I dyed it brown for many years. I was not going to be an old lady! I retired at close to 58 and was still dying it. I was in the sun so much that I often looked dark blonde. It was cut fairly short and the white blended in with the blonde, so it didn’t bother me. I eventually had the blonde cut off and it was very short and spiky. I do remember my mother telling me I was much too young, and I should dye it. I was recently at a party and noticed a few people letting the white take over.”

 ร˜  “I dyed my hair for so many years. I stopped when I began having allergy issues to dyes. No makeup and no hair dye—no color in shampoo, etc. I had my hair cut VERY short and I had my gal try to strip the hair color in an effort to make it one color—which failed miserably. I looked like Rod Stewart! Think calico cat meets Rod Stewart! I kept it cut really short until it grew out. I've tried some longer cuts with the new gray hair but find that it is easiest and looks best a bit short. I'm super lucky as my guy likes me best 'aw natural'! No makeup, no hair dye. What takes forever is to realize you now have gray hair. I still look at other women with brown hair and think that it looks like mine.”

 ร˜  “I went gray early, so at first, I put a Nice and Easy rinse on it every month (dark). My hair was naturally dark, but as the gray started coming in, I did what my mom did and starting using a Nice and Easy blonde rinse. After a couple years of that I realized that the gray coming in behind the blonde was close to the same color and didn't show that much. So, I would let it go for months and could hardly tell. Finally, I said enough and just didn't use the rinse anymore. I never had it professionally done. It has now been about 10 years since I went natural. My sister has the same color now too.”

 ร˜  “I dyed my hair for YEARs—since my 30s. I started with highlights then full head. Did it myself. My mom and oldest sister grayed very early. In fact, I never remember my mom not being gray. I decided during the pandemic to stop dyeing it. I got it cut really short. About four months later got it cut short again and by then it was all grown out. My mom and her dad had beautiful white hair. When I was coloring my hair, it got to the point where often it wouldn't take the color around my temples where it was really gray. I just got tired of it not covering and I knew I had a good chance of my hair being white like my mom and grandpa's. I also knew I wasn't fooling anyone or hiding my real age. So, I figured, WTF? Since I stopped coloring it, I've had more compliments on my hair than ever. Who knew?”

Not all my friends are embracing gray hair—at least not yet. One friend said she decided to try letting her hair grow out naturally with COVID helping her make the move to gray. “I stopped cutting it at the same time,” she told me. “I liked the idea of going natural, but I remember looking at myself some days and feeling old—more because of what I saw than how I actually felt.” That friend returned to hair color and haircuts. “I am not ready to go back to natural,” she said. “I have played around with lots of colors over the years and found one that I love.”  

One friend offered this advice, “I think if you’re tired of dying your hair you might try going lighter and lighter. You don’t need to go short and spikey. You have a beautiful face which glows from inside and super hair that adds even more beauty…so, you’ll never know unless…”

So, I have started my journey to gray. I have used so much purple shampoo that my roots are often light purple. I feel lighter and freer already, but should I ever look in the mirror and feel old because of my hair color, I can always color it again! I just won’t talk to Tony about it first!

 But Wait, There’s More…

I have three friends currently battling breast cancer. Each of them has lost her hair. That puts this entire hair color debate into perspective for me. I am grateful to be breathing. Please join me in praying for our sisters everywhere as they fight their individual battles.