21-07-2025
I thought it was bold to let my hair go grey – but now I'm turning back to colour
Looking back at photos I reached peak hair colour, sadly, when I was five years old. I sported a natural smattering of sun-kissed blonde highlights. As I grew up my hair became a dark chestnut. I don't remember any horrific moment when I noticed my first grey hairs but they must have been making themselves known so I started using brunette dye in my mid-30s.
With hindsight I rushed into it. As my hair began to lose more pigment I started to get strikingly contrasting grey roots. The battle lines were drawn. About a month after each hair appointment my young daughter would take great delight in pointing out my shock of parting when I leant down (to tidy up after her, probably).
Between relentlessly regular six-week salon visits I reached for sticks, powders and sprays to disguise my roots, but it felt like people were talking to the top of my head as the crispy texture or wrong shade gave the game away.
After a decade of dyeing (since I was 36), I'd had enough and decided to transition from brown to grey. I was determined to age gracefully. I didn't want to be the female equivalent of a man with a comb-over.
I was inspired by similar-aged women with great grey hair such as Sarah Harris, then deputy editor of British Vogue. I liked the way she saw it as 'honest and non-conformist'. It felt like an act of rebellion.
I like to think of myself as an early adopter of the trend. I joined a supportive network of women on Instagram under the hashtags #silversisters, #greyhairmovement and #greyhairdontcare. As well as sharing their journeys they celebrated other trailblazers like the designer Liz Kamarul, make-up artist Michele Aikin and British model Sammie K.
I felt liberated. I was free from the shackles of six-week hair cycles. I felt chic and confident. Women would compliment me or say I was inspiring them to ditch the dye.
Covid and the consequential lockdown gave energy to the trend as women were denied visits to the hairdressers. They took advantage of being hidden away while they transitioned.
Six months in I lost my patience with project grey. Around this time my husband told me I looked like I'd had a bag of flour dropped on my head. I wasn't prepared to chop short my long bob but recognised it would be another year before the grey had grown in. I needed help. So I cheated and revisited my colourist. I was lured into regular four-hour appointments where magic was weaved with foils, bleach and toners, to transform me to a cool ash-grey blonde.
But over time my hair began to protest by throwing up frizz on good days, looking brassy and parched on bad. I sourced vats of nourishing products to try to appease it. Investing so much money and energy soon became a bore, so once again I opted to let the grey conquer.
But as my blonde grew out I found I was having to supplement my look by upgrading my skincare, make-up and clothes to stop my late mother's voice tutting in my head and asking if I'd 'let myself go'. I'd catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror first thing in the morning, in my dog-walking gear, and fret that I looked frumpy. My husband posted a photo of me out walking on the family group chat and I was horrified how the hair on the back of my head was bright white and glowed conspicuously.
I also noticed just how many women my age had opted out. I was no longer an outlier but just literally mainstream grey. I felt metaphorically drab too.
I considered making a statement by using purple and pink toning shampoos but was put off by women decades older than me choosing this option. Is the recent trend for these just a re-marketing of a 1970s blue rinse?
Natural-ish actual colour was what I yearned for. But I didn't want to reintroduce the dreaded regrowth ghost, so my hairdresser advised on bleaching then using a semi-permanent soft caramel which gently fades with each wash. As soon as I saw my new hair I felt physical relief. The warmer tones stopped my face looking washed out.
A colleague has already confessed she feels her grey has made her feel invisible so is opting out too. And my colour-committed best friend, always ready with an honest opinion, simply said 'phew' when she saw me. OK, so I have to return every month but it only takes about an hour (including the cut), which is a quarter of the time I'd be sat having blonde highlights. I just wish I'd relented and done it sooner.
