Up until a few years ago, our dress policy at work stated that our hair could only be in more natural colors. When the dress code became more relaxed, so did the hair policy. It opened up a new way of self-expression for me and I immediately dyed my hair teal. #BulmaHair
I kind of hate my hair as I was blessed with my Dad’s genetics and inherited his thin hair. I still have enough of it to not look like I’m balding, but I’ve also bought cheap Halloween wigs that were thicker than the hair on my own head. I never style it since I’m not that skilled with hair and find it’s too much work figuring out how much product it needs to stay up—I put a pin head too much, it will weigh down my hair and deflate like a sad balloon. Having colored hair like an anime character is a way for me not to completely hate my hair. I look in the mirror every morning and basically go, “Who cares if it looks like shit? It’s blue!”
I was working in bakery up until a few months ago so, regardless of color, my hair was always covered by a hair net or a cap. The moment I got (forcibly) transferred to the front end, I didn’t have to cover my hair at work anymore and I replaced my company cap with various cat ear headbands. Recently, I found Joann’s had some multicolored fur in pink, purple, and teal and made my own cat ear headband that matches my teal hair well enough that people think I styled my hair like that.
Now that I’m working front end, I’m dealing with more customers than ever and this has led to some… interesting interactions with my hair. By “interesting interactions” I really mean old men who act like their dick is going to fall off and the patriarchy will crumble if they don’t give me shit about my hair and cat ears.
Here’s a few of the comments I’ve gotten:
“Can I be a smartass? …did you lose a bet? …well, thanks for coming into work looking like that!”
“Is Easter coming up already?” (It was July)
“Are you preparing for Halloween or back to school?”
“Why did you dye it that color? I feel sorry for you!” (He was cranky the entire time)
I’ve had several old men sarcastically ask me if I knew my hair was blue or I had cat ears. My response has been to act shocked. “What? Not again!” If it’s about my cat ears, I’ll even touch them before I pretend to be surprised at their presence.
It’s always stupid, old men. Only one woman of similar age has ever given me shit about my hair when she theorized to her friend on how I got the color by wiping the back of her hand across her nose. I’m normally not talkative when checking people at the register and I think she took my silence as offense because she apologized for the comment before leaving.
It’s not that these comments get to me. If anything, it encouraged me to freshen up the color this week so that it was brighter and bluer. It’s just these comments it gets old similar to being told “It’s free, right?” whenever I can’t get an item to scan correctly. But for the most part, whenever an older woman comes up to me and stares at my hair I’m 1000% positive before she even speaks that she’s going to tell me my hair and/or ears looks cute or how I got it that color. The younger kids are sometimes too precious when it comes to their reactions. I’ve had a couple little girls yell out “SHE’S A KITTY CAT!” when they see my blue hair and cat ears. One time a grandma was out with her grandson and asked him, “Do you think she gets small when you touch her ears?” The grandma explained he watches a show where the girl wears cat ears and turns small when she rubs them. I leaned over and suggested that he can give it a try. Nothing happened, but we had a good laugh.
I don’t have blue hair for anyone else’s benefit, but these nicer interactions are a little bonus and give me energy and life when I’ve had a crap week where I’ve had a string of asshat comments.