An Ode to My Hair

My roots.

My hair color history has been a pretty hilarious journey.

When I was first auditioning for legit work I was a brunette, hair cut above the shoulders, no concrete style (in my hair or my clothes! My first headshot is a riot)! I was auditioning for shows shooting around DC and was picked up for an episode of “Who the (BLEEP) Did I Marry?” to reenact the story of a fiery young housewife with a criminal for a husband. Now when I say fiery, I mean she literally had a beautiful head of “fire engine red” (the casting director’s exact words) hair. So, to get the part I would have to dye my hair red. I thought, “carpe diem!” and rocked an Ariel shade. After my next audition, the casting director said, “you were great, but, can we see you blonde?” And so I went from brunette, to red, to golden blonde, strawberry blonde, and finally an icy platinum by the time I arrived in New York.

This lasted until my hair performed seppuku and gave up taking any color. The ends were split, the bottom of my hair was skeletal. I went to my stylist and she agreed there was only one thing to do: chop the locks, color it dark, and stop bleaching it to high heaven. I panicked. “But, I was told I HAD to be baby blonde and that no one will hire me if I’m not platinum.” When I finally got up the courage to tell my agent, he was confused, “why are you even changing your hair? Just be yourself”!

Just be yourself. Just. Be. YOURSELF.

This entire time I had been suffering from an identity crisis, blending in with my blonde siblings, sure, but not being myself. So, after a massive chop and letting my roots shine through, I have learned to be happily, and unapologetically, me. Will I be asked to change my hair for a role in the future? Possibly. But, that’s what wigs are for!