I have not the slightest clue as to what my natural hair looks like. Since the age of 16, I’ve been highlighting, lowlighting, dyeing and re-dyeing my strands to express whatever stage in my life through colorful hues. Starting with highlights, my hair has possibly been every shade of brown there is known to man.
During one of my many bouts of “I need a new hair color,” I decided it was time to go bold with my tone of choice. Being that it was inching closer to New Year’s Eve and my last semester of college, I decided, what the hell, let’s go red. Red is vivacious, bold, in-your-face and I felt that I was approaching a fearless chapter in my life, with gearing up for graduation and the “real world” and all.
With a modest budget, I opted not to seek my usual, professional colorist. Instead, I consulted my sister who’s dipped her mane in every shade of the rainbow, except for maybe blue and green, and she took me to her hairstylist. My very first mistake.