I confess to being somewhat fascinated by the time, money and energy some women put into their hair. And not just into the hair on their heads.
I’ve been guilty of spending hard-earned cash on professional cuts and highlights. That said, I decided several months ago to go back to my natural hair color—brownish-blonde, with yes, some rapidly expanding silver streaks.
I’m getting quite a bit of silver and gray shot through all of my hair, and, until recently, it never occurred to me to be self-conscious about it, especially as at least two male friends have termed it “hot.” But then I learned about color dyes for “the hair down there.” While I sort of like the shock value of sporting a blue bush, I did not “try it so you don’t have to” this time. Just as I’m not going to pay someone to hot glue crystals on my nethers—for so many reasons (vajazzling, y’all). My “hair down there” mommy makeover involves a razor and a pair of scissors on a rather irregular basis—which one friend terms “the 1970s Joy of Sex grooming technique.” Yeah, well, I grew up in the 70s. And now I live in hippie, hair-friendly Asheville.
But if you are unhappy with the natural graying process in your private area, I hear that pubilicious color dyes are the answer. These for “the hair down there” dyes supposedly are quite popular with middle-aged moms. Lola Salon in Asheville stocks and sells the Betty Beauty products (I gather “Betty” is another synonym). Colors include the obvious—black, brown, auburn and blonde—but then there’s hot pink (Fun Betty), aqua (Bridal or Malibu Betty), and lilac (Sexy Betty). Bridal Betty takes the “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue” wedding aphorism to a whole new level.
The impetus for the product is the tradition of hair stylists giving clients a little brown bag to take home so said clients can match the snatch. I’ve spent enough time in locker rooms to know that it’s rare for the carpet to match the drapes exactly. So I don’t understand why this would be desirable. My stylist has never offered me a brown bag to take home, though if she does, I hope it contains whiskey, not hair dye.
Also, I must say that most hair dye is pretty toxic stuff, laden with chemicals whose names I can’t pronounce. Putting those chemicals near soft tissue gives me the heebie-jeebies. The Betty Beauty folks claim that their dye is all natural and doesn’t contain harsh chemicals. But the ingredient list on the box at Lola features a whole long list of difficult-to-pronounce words. After birthing two babies, I figure that area of my body’s been through enough trauma, thank you.
The folks at Lola tell me that the Betty dyes sell pretty well, and they’re particularly big sellers before Valentine’s Day (cards are so passé, but a lilac landing strip epitomizes 21st century love). She says some clients mix two dyes to achieve that perfect shade of awesome. The salon also sells Bare Betty, a depilatory that claims not to smell of sulphur. Because no one wants their nether regions to smell like the infernal regions. Oh, and the dye both lifts and deposits color, so if you’re going for the hot pink topiary effect, this is your product (wait, that sounds kind of 70s, doesn’t it?).
Turns out some men like the stuff too—because manscaping is hot, I reckon. And I suppose it might be fun to match your partner—regardless of gender—especially since pube dye is less permanent than matching tattoos.
Of course, in terms of mommy makeover options, Betty Beauty is relatively inexpensive. It costs less than a manicure and about the same as a good drugstore face cream. And much, much less than foil highlights. So there’s that. Although I think I’d rather spend my next $16 on beer and not worry about gray hairs, regardless of where they pop up.