We’re a dy(e)ing breed

I started ‘coloring’ my hair at the end of my freshman year in college.  Living in the cloud belt of upstate NY for a year had made my skin a lovely translucent shade of white, so I decided to dye my hair, red.

This became a constant source of amusement for my parents.  They took to calling me ‘Lucy’ (after Lucille Ball).

One night, my family decided to go see a movie. The boys headed off to the latest action movie, leaving Mom and I in line for tickets to a chick flick. (It may have been ‘Dying Young’ with Julia Roberts). The college-aged red-haired guy who was behind the ticket counter, noted my own flaming tresses.  He pointed out that “It was rare to see another redhead, as we were a dying breed.” Mom almost hurt herself trying not to laugh.

That was over 20 years ago, and my hair hasn’t been the same shade of red/brown/blonde for more than a few months at a time, since.




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