I met a friend for coffee the other day, and had a conversation that left me...confused.
We were just chatting, you know, the usual girl-talk about hair and things, and I mentioned how I'd been thinking about coloring my hair purple, I had a bunch of "crazy" colors when I was in my teens, but I've never been purple, and was curious about doing it now. Immediately, my friend gave me this horrified look. At first, she said why would I "ruin" the lovely hair I have now, and were it only that, I could've agreed.
But then, she added, "Anyway, not anymore. You may have been able to get away with it until now, but not from now on."
She was referencing my birthday. I'm 25 next week (her age, also). And, as is often the case, it seems I missed the marker for adulthood. I wasn't aware there was a hard cut-off at 25 by which "crazy" hair is no longer deemed acceptable by society. And heaven forbid I displease or somehow disappoint society.
Really, the way she said it suggested we're too old for that sort of thing now. It would no longer be "appropriate". I thought, first of all, I'm 25, not 85. Not that I think purple hair is inappropriate at 85. It's preferable, if you think about it, 'cause you've got the perfect white base. But it's more common to hear that sort of "argument" about older people. To hear it from a twenty five year old seems so bizarre, not to mention wrong.
I mean, this from a person who hated thinking of the number when she turned 25 because where did the time go? It's a sentiment I agree with. An ex's mom had the supreme argument that the pandemic years don't count, so really, I'm turning 22. If we're being honest. :D
At 17, in Hammersmith, with my shock blue hair.
Jokes aside, I like 25. It's a good number, and I'm happy with where I am, and with how life has progressed so far. The way I think of it, though, is "well okay, we're at this stage. This is what yet needs doing, where I wanna go, what I wanna achieve and stuff, and this is roughly the time left."
I thought everyone thought like that. Certainly wasn't aware there's people thinking "Oh, well, I'm 25 now. Or 46. or 70 or whatever. Better act like it. Here's a list of do's and dont's."
It seems like such a sad way to conduct your life. I mean, say you wanna dye your hair purple like me. It's one thing, I think, to not do it because it's expensive or you don't wanna damage your hair too much or whatever. It's quite another not to do it because "what would people think?". Jesus. Who has time to worry what someone else is thinking? Fuck other people. It might be an argument if I worked in some strict corporate world where it might impact my job prospects, but as I am now, who gives a fuck?
It's sad because I see this friend slipping away into this template of what she thinks adults should be. She never really took the time to find out who she was or what she liked or wanted, and as she grows older, she just seems to be molding more and more to this bland template of "adults".
It's depressing. To live life by someone else's dubiously identified "rules". Let someone else tell you which colors are okay to dye your hair and which aren't. What to wear and what not to. What to think.
I don't know if I'm gonna dye my hair. I think it's a bit expensive, and am a bit worried about bleaching it, 'cause last time I did it, I did damage it quite badly. On the other hand, I loved having blue and green and all those other colors. It was such great fun.
(Apparently, I'm too old for that kind of fun now.)
But irrespective of whether I do or don't, it's going to be because of my own damn choices. Like, I'd rather spend the money on something else, or not damage the hair I've spent years regrowing and strengthening. It certainly won't be because some uptight asshole might look at me and think "ooh, doesn't she think she's all that".
Who's got the time? At (almost) 25, I know I don't.
