in which I go brunette

 Shoes: Jessica Simpson, Skit: UO, Belt: JCrew, Top: Old Navy, Fur: Cut from old vest, Watch: Gift

I've been dying my own hair this color since I was 15 years old. Rebelling against the dirty dishwater / old kitchen mop in your grandma's basement hair color that somehow evaded all of my genetically superior siblings. My hairstylist later corrected that notion and told me that I had what they call a very dark blonde. But somehow old kitchen mop just seems a little more fitting. I've always been a little reckless with it. Picking out colors at Walgreens and trying them out just to see. This once resulted in an unintentional Gothic moment during high school that you could say was less than flattering and a shameful moment in picture day history. But anyway. I've been this dark color a big chunk of my life right? I'm used to it. And then a while ago, I somehow morphed into a blonde. And for a very short, not necessarily committed two years, I stayed that way. So it surprised me as I went into the salon on Saturday morning {and was reminded by my stylist that I'm a natural blonde *barely*} that I, the reckless hair chameleon, experienced what I can only call "You're getting rid of your blonde?! But it's ... BLONDE" anxiety.
And then I smacked my blonde in the face and went brunette.