Korean Blond

That’s what I am now. Not intentionally, mind you, but I am. I had “prit-tee” strands of blond put in my hair several months ago. My roots from that experiment are quite evident now. I complained about this to Sang Jae, who replied, “Lori. No. Very, very good. Hair grows fast, means you thinking eros thoughts.” I rolled my eyes.

Seeing that Korean hair salons are quite the bargain, I decided to return to my natural chestnut brown before returning to the US. I asked Sang Jae to accompany me, at least initially, to the beauty salon to insure there were no misunderstandings due to language. He and the stylist talked, “Yay, yay, yay” back and forth, back and forth. I was presented with a board of hair samples ranging from platinum blond to jet black. I chose my original chestnut, compared it to my non-dyed hair, and nodded. Yes, this one. More Korean transpired. I turned to Sang Jae. Before I could even ask, he smiled and said, “Not a problem.”

I was led to a chair, seated, and watched as two women attacked my hair. Mixing noxious potions, strong enough to make my eyes tear. Inspecting my hair, strand by strand. Clucking their tongues and shaking their heads. Combing the foamy pinkish mixture onto my locks. Repeating the process. Forty-five minutes later, the assistant said, “This way” and led me to the basin for a shampoo.

My favorite part. Feeling her fingers massage my scalp, generating lather, rinsing warm, then cool. She wrapped a pink towel round my head and ushered me back to the chair. As she removed the towel, I was immediately suspicious. Instead of the dark brown I was expecting I was met by more of a golden tone. As the blow dryer heated strand by strand, I realized this was not even close to the shade I had pointed out. I smiled feebly as she, very proud of her work, said, “You like?”

I stared in the wall length mirror in front of me. I really don’t have the coloring to sport blond hair. But, I also fear what will happen if I try to chemically process my hair yet another time. As I was staring blankly in the mirror, I slowly, very slowly, became aware of something very curious. I looked right, then slowly focused my gaze left. My hair was the exact same shade as all of the stylists. The light, brassy, orange-y color that occurs when dark hair tries to be light. I sighed. Yet another souvenir by which to remember Korea…