.......or do I?
(Newsflash: I have alopecia, so I wear wigs full time. I've blogged about this several times.)
I recently ordered myself a FREAKING FABULOUS wig in a color called plumbery jam. Which is code for: way more purple than anybody is willing to admit.
When it arrived it took my breath away. Mostly because it's so beautiful. I mean, really. It's so gorgeous. Dark purple brown at the roots, then this lush, deep burgundy with strands of hot pink here and there, and bright fuchsia tips. Prettiest wig I've owned thus far. Like for reals.
However, in case I've failed to mention it this week: I'm forty.
This wig also took my breath away because I knew in an instant that I'd made a big mistake. The hair was not cheap, and there was no way I could wear it on the regular. I'm simply too old, to mom-ish, and I live in a conservative, wealthy South Korean city. As if I don't stand out enough already.
My son's all had crazy responses that left me giggling...albeit with a bruised ego.
My ten year old whispered (when I wore it to pick him up from school): why are you doing this to me?
My eight year old shrugged and said: yeah, what did you do to your head?
My seventeen year old said: Are you planning on wearing that outside of the house? Do you know that it's purple? Can you see it?
My fifteen year old daughter loved it. Go figure. Of course, she's been trying to convince me to let her dye her hair purple for ages, so she likely saw this as a step in her direction.
The good news is, I will save it for special occasions. Halloween. Karaoke nights with the girls. Concerts. And maybe Tuesdays. Whatever.
But not every day.
Because when your child asks you, why are you doing this to me? You sort of have to pay attention.
Long live my purple hair. Isn't it gorgeous?