Book Excerpts | 07/09/2009 12:00 am
Book Excerpt: Going Gray by Anne Kreamer

I was more than a little nervous to share my decision to quit dyeing my hair with Joseph Artale, the owner of Arte, the lowkey boutique salon in Manhattan’s NoHo where my whole family has had their hair done for years. I wasn’t afraid Joe would have a reality-TV kind of hissy fit over the notion. He’s a sensible, well-adjusted, handsome father of three, and the whole vibe of his salon is chic but down-to-earth, intimate, familylike. But he was, after all, the professional, and I was worried that I might be making a mistake.
Joe only half-jokingly remarked, "Oh, God, I hope you don’t start some kind of trend here." And then, in a more earnest and even slightly panicky way, he added, "Warning — this path not recommended for everyone." The salon business, of course, would be decimated if significant numbers of women stopped coloring their hair. But he was game.
I had no real idea what I was getting into. I am an impulsive, ready-fire-aim person, and over the years I’ve come to realize that the best way for me to succeed at difficult tasks I’ve set for myself — quitting cigarettes, changing careers from magazine executive to TV producer to magazine writer and author, helping to start new businesses (Spy magazine in the 1980s, Nickelodeon magazine in the early ’90s, a production company in the late ’90s), selling a beloved farm in upstate New York — is to tell as many people as possible as quickly as I can about my plans. The public knowledge becomes a goad to keep me on track.
Even before telling my family that I’d decided to let my hair return to its natural color, I sought what I assumed would be positive reinforcement of my decision from a few friends my age. The results were mixed.
One of the first people I called to discuss my decision to allow my natural color to grow in was a childhood friend living in Lawrence, Kansas. Jane was on the same page. She told me that she’d recently had her hair guy begin to transition her blond highlights to white ones. She made me laugh aloud when she said, "I’m hoping it grows out that beautiful snow color, but I fear it’ll be more like old-lady pubes. But hey, Emmylou rocks! My husband is totally hot for her." And like all good friends, she encouraged me. "You’re going to be one of those fabulous-looking white-haired women in great scarves and sweaters over cigarette-leg pants." Her instant feedback was inspiring. I thought, Yes, exactly, sophisticated and cool and part of a movement. My gray-haired friends — a tiny minority of women I know, maybe 5 percent — were, like members of all "clubs" who want new converts, extremely enthusiastic. Aki, one of my Lily Dale traveling companions who swims seriously and doesn’t color partly because her hair would turn a Martian chartreuse in the chlorine, promised that it would feel liberating, a release from a minor but real tyranny. Two women in my book club, both in their mid-60s with fabulous white hair, said they’d seldom been happier than in the days after they decided to quit coloring. Okay, I thought, I can do this.























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Interesting subject. I’d never spoken to anyone about their hair until I decided to go from three or four colors of blond-ish to dark brown and very long to as white as I could get it. Well, I just couldn’t get reallly white most of the time. I don’t have time for all that any more. I’m going to get it cut in a short, cute cut and let it grow out. God knows what I’ll find. It’s been shades of brown for many many years, but I have a suspicion there’s something very different lurking underneath.
Maybe I’ll get Anne Kreamer’s book first.
My prefered hair colors have always been grey, salt & pepper and white. I wanted gray hair as early as I could remember. I remember one summer going from hair salon to hair salon inquiring if someone could color my hair gray. Needless to say I was laughed and told I would have to grow into this color. I was around seventeen or eighteen and devastated! I remember having a dream and one night that I had a head full of lovely white hair. I awoke the next morning giving God thanks for answering prayers only to discover it had been a dream. Again, I was devastated!
My mother had a community of friends whom I admired. They were remarkable women. I would sit quietly and listen to their conversations for hours. I was never interested in playing games like the other children even though I did. I was an "old soul." I often even to this day compliment women with beautiful gray or white hair. They respond with huges smiles and thank yous.
I can proudly day that today I wear my hair cut close to the scalp with with silver shining throuhout with white at my temples. I now get the compliments I give and gave as a youngwoman. I cannot imagine coloring my hair.
There is something wonderfully sexy about gray, white, salt & pepper haired confident and intelligent woman!
I’ll turn 50 next week, and do not color my hair. Grey is starting to show up around my hairline and sprinkling lightly over my head, and what I’m realizing is that when you go grey the pigment in your hair fades. My hair has always been a bright (thanks, Granddaddy, for the red tints!) medium brown that lightens almost to blond in summer; now I see it fading to a mousier, saltier mix. The idea of bright grey or white appeals (my father had beautiful white hair at the end of his life), but this unbrightening of my hair is disconcerting.
So what I do, when I have time and remember to do it, is give myself a neutral henna treatment. Neutral henna has no color, but it coats the hair shaft and gives it a bit more body and lot more shine. Once I tried a light brown henna, which gave a result fairly close to my own color — it covered the bits of grey, certainly, but I’d have to keep doing it to (and I’m not inclined to spend even 2 hours every few weeks with henna trickling under the plastic on my head and down my neck) maintain that coverage. I still like the neutral best.
My mother’s hair (she turns 86 next week), after years of being naturally light brown, is now about 50% grey — but it still shines, and that makes it still beautiful. So I think I’ll stick with my henna, which acts primarily as a conditioner, and watch the grey develop.
Also — the woman’s hair on Anne Kreamer’s book cover is stunning, but not only for its color; she has a great cut! My hair has that kind of body and (often unruly) wave, and I’m going to take a screen shot of this haircut and take it to my salon!
DL…If you do your own hair, go out to a salon supply house and buy "Shimmer Lights Shampoo by Clairol, or ask your hairstylist what he/she uses. It brightens both blondes and silver (Gray hair) beautifully. I went gloriously gray about 3 years ago. I just did not have any interest in have my roots touched up more and more frequently. Also I wanted to see what my hair would look like gray and I love it! And everybody else loves it. I have never had more women at the supermarket, on the street, standing in line at the movies, etc tell me how pretty my hair was. Interestingly most of them were my age or younger. Which made me wonder if they were considering it. I am lucky or so every body tells me because my gray came in beautifully. None of my friends have gone gray…which is a laugh. When we all get together, I am the only one with gray hair. So I joke with them whether they think people think they’re are hanging out with an older woman or the only truthful woman in the bunch? I love the freedom it gives me from the march to the salon for a touch up and I love looking sorta my age. I am in very good physical shape and considered attractive, As beautiful and beautifully coiffed as all my girlfriends are…they all look just alike…
Again, there’s a very cultural and geographic cast to this gray thing.
When I moved to California, I was amazed at the number of women who had highly visible roots for inches (!!!) and visible layers of different colors, like an archeological dig, and apparently were not at all concerned about it, compared to the meticulous and perfectionistic one-color dye jobs of the East Coast. On the other hand, many of the women I knew or saw in coastal Massachusetts were completely and unabashedly natural and had no qualms about it—from no makeup to totally natural hair, whatever color it was, including gray…these ladies never would have dreamed of coloring their hair; it was not part of their world.
Anne Kreamer is preoccupied by the same New York entertainment culture now that she was when she was a teenager. This culture places a lot of emphasis on artifice, making personality statements with your looks, and analyzing your appearance. She’s welcome to this culture, at which many people make their living, but the world is bigger than New York.
I posted this once before, but was outnumbered by the few who opted to go gray/white. I’ll repost it here with the other ones who are staying blondes………………………………………..
I read the book and loved it. You ( the author) look good with gray hair and your still young face. If you get to be a lot older gray hair makes you look & feel OLD. I started coloring my hair in my 70s when somebody told me my hair looked like hell. I became a blonde and recieved nothing but compliments on it, so guess I’ll stay this way until I get really ancient and stupid looking as a blond, at which point it won’t matter I suppose.
My hair is thicker and healthier since I stopped coloring and started moisturizing. I now have a face-flattering mane of soft brown-silver-white hair that my husband loves and others admire — and I’m saving money, too!
It has been years since I’ve colored my hair but I definitely remember the last time -it was the first month that I missed having a period! That had only happened twice before in my life, both times were pregnancies. I was in my late 40’s, my hair was already showing traces of gray, both my children were in college. The first thought that flashed through my brain with stunning clarity was " I will not be pregant and gray headed!" Instead of picking up a pregnancy test kit at the drug store, I grabbed the hair color and went straight home, shut myself in the bathroom and dyed my hair. The thought of menopause never enterd my mind, I wasn’t "old enough" for that, not me! But in fact, I was - at first it seemed like an overwhelming situation but I have found it to be only a natural progression of the journey. Now 60, I am one of the few women in my circle of friends who does not do the color thing and it’s their comment that really amuses me - "If mine looked like yours, I wouldn’t color it either." How will they ever know?
When my husband and I were on our way home this past April from a winter trip to Florida, a young woman in a restaurant stopped by our table telling me that she loved my glasses and that my hair was to die for! What more can I say?