Cron ng My Ha r

By Katharyn Howd Machan

As I passed 60, after years of having my hair dyed its “natural” brown, I began to think more and more of my father, 59 when I was born, whose hair was a beautiful white. Had I inherited Machan locks? More and more lines and little saggy places were appearing in my mirror; I didn’t want to look like I was trying to hide my age. I consider myself very fortunate to be alive. I celebrate growing old. Why not try to be an example of elderly vitality instead of being thought years younger than I am? I made the big decision to “crone” my hair by letting it become its actual color.

“You’re a silver fox!” were the first words I heard from my grown daughter as we found each other in the crowd of the JFK terminal that day in May of 2015. We were on our way to the Aegean island of Skyros, where we would celebrate the life of British poet Rupert Brooke, buried there in 1915. CoraRose had not seen me since before I stopped dying my hair. She was startled at first, but her compliment was genuine. I had my interesting mix of gray and white and brown. I tossed my head with a different kind of smile, accepting that I was aging and refusing to let anyone make me feel invisible. I knew I would still perform in front of people as Zajal in fuchsia sequins and a belt of coins, playing my polished zills with Mirage Belly Dancers. I enjoyed thinking that someone in the audience would call out in encouragement, “Look at that little silver-haired one go!”

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I didn’t intend to make a radical change. I didn’t go to Transformations in March 0f 2016 and ask for complete coloring. As winter dragged on, I’d gotten the notion I’d like a couple of small bright streaks. BUT….

Debbi Dolittle suggested I let her experiment with my hair—and now, almost six years later, with her encouragement and artistry, my full ripples and waves continue to be turquoise and fuchsia, refreshed every three months. I’m happy to let the white— yes, Machan white—show through, and promotes a reputation for diversity and inclusion. During the trip we discovered that years of progress (we moved away in 1985) in the area had led to the building of new active senior properties, restored renovated factories (some for 55+), or affordable upgraded units in old apartment complexes. One town in the area even had the big idea to create a community of modest houses and one-level duplexes based on the mutual needs of older residents and children in the foster system. A model that symbiotically and successfully unites generations. Our search over that three day adventure was ultimately rewarded. We found the ‘perfect’ or at least ideal home that ticked almost all the boxes our middle-class incomes required. for it indicates (along with the wisdom wrinkles on my face) that I am elderly. And for sure I am not invisible.

The return home to Ithaca was bittersweet. We had planned to stay in this unique and vibrant city, but for many reasons it is no longer the place for us. We aren’t leaving behind a myopic ancient institution that squandered the big ideas of two intelligent and insightful millennials. We are moving on to a place where progressive big ideas created a niche for a growing number of us not so wealthy late boomers.

Another big change has happened as well. When Transformations closed, Robby Brown, longtime stylist there (and my son Benjamin’s boyfriend), acted fast: he located a site at 309 East Lincoln Street, secured a loan, bought equipment, painted furniture silver and turquoise and fuchsia (I kid you not!), alerted his many clients, and in September opened his own beautiful salon, Fru-Fru. Because he happened to choose the same colors as my curls, my joke is that I am an extension of the salon, but my serious contribution is that I left Debbi (which she completely understood), became Robby’s client, and now three to five times a week promote Fru-Fru to the people who stop me, no matter where I am, to say, “I love your hair!” He’s an artist—as he says, color is the heart and soul of his craft—and I trust him completely to keep me bringing to the world what makes so many people smile.