Club # 2... drum roll, please... "Openly Gray and Lovin' It." Again, I'll gladly be the charter member. I find that I am an endangered species these days. As you can see from the posted photos, I have gray hair-- a LOT of gray hair-- and I don't hide it.
My mom had a gray streak in her hair by 25, and my grandmother's hair was snow white by 40. In my mind, the word matriarch is synonymous with a sparkly, silver mane. The transition from silky brown to wiry gray hair began early in my 30's, and in my 40's those pesky gray devils have transitioned to white.
The very few times I choose to discuss the issue, my sisters and friends say things like "well, if my gray was as pretty as yours, I wouldn't color it either." Hmm... I have a feeling that, if read between the lines, that comment actually means "if you hang around me and I cover my gray, I'll look younger, so just keep those snowy puppies visible." That's cool. I don't mind.
My husband and kids would stage a riot if I colored my hair. Yeah. That might stop me for 45 seconds or so. After all, it's my hair. What does stop me is that it would take the equivalent of the national debt to keep this much gray under wraps! Not to mention the hours in the salon. (I love you, Jamie.)
So, if you need emotional support for sporting your natural color, join the club. Oh! And if you're like my sisters, you can join us for a drink after the meeting. You're sure to look extra youthful in this crowd! And, that's OK, because we're comfortable with our choice to be openly gray.