I’d like to introduce myself: I’m Hillary, and I am a blonde. Notice that I didn’t say: I’m Hillary, and I have blonde hair. That’s an important distinction because I am one of those women: A forever blonde.
As a child, I had authentically flaxen hair: a pure, delicious, baby-blonde shade that’s become the hallmark of fairytale heroines, from Cinderella to Goldilocks, Rapunzel to Sleeping Beauty. I loved that I visually favored my Viennese grandma (we called her Omi), with her patrician, Estée Lauder-like looks and trademark curly blonde mane. It wasn’t until around the age of 12 that puberty began slowly turning my proud blonde into a shade that can only be described as mousy, dishwater-brown. If memory serves, I referred to myself as “dark blonde” for years, resolutely refusing to accept the reality of the situation.

Hillary Quinn back in the day with her natural blonde hair!
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Color Wars
In my mid-teens, I decided to take the matter into my own hands with lemons and a bottle of Sun-In Spray, which left sad, orange/brassy blotches throughout my brown-ish hair. Once I hit college, I took the professional plunge and started getting pricey blonde highlights at a salon. That was, like, 35 years ago … and I’m still getting them.
I tell you this to explain that I’ve basically spent a lifetime chasing the color of my youth and declaring rightful ownership of that shade. In my mind, saying “I’m blonde” is no different than saying “I’m Jewish.” Always was. Always will be. So, when errant gray hairs began appearing at the crown of my head a few years ago and monkeying with the works, I simply did what I’ve always done: put the damn things under cover with the rest of the offenders.

Hillary Quinn now.
To complicate the matter, those grays have an unruly texture that fight with the rest of my hair; they’re frizzy, dull, and disobedient. Which means, that in addition to coloring every seven weeks, I also subject myself to a hair-straightening treatment that blends those babies so they’ll lie down flat. (It’s called Cezanne—kind of like the Brazilian Blowout, but not as hard on the hair.) In all candor, I think it’s no coincidence that I’ve become a fan of South America in this stage of life: partial both to Brazilian bikini waxes and Brazilian blowouts. Strip away the gray, however you have to do it.
Read More: Why You Should Embrace Your Roots and Ditch the Dye (and Tips On How!)
No Gray Days for Me

The author’s grandmother (Omi).
Despite this stance, I want to be very clear: I have nothing against gray hair. I’ve seen beautiful, shiny, silvery, regal-looking manes sported by women my own age, and to them I say, more power to you. But I want no part of it. Personally, I don’t need to stand on a soap box and use gray hair as a self-esteem power statement, like, “Dammit, folks … I’m a confident woman. See? My hair proves it!”
While others may say they don’t need the trappings to prove their worth, I believe that I don’t need to strip the trappings to prove my worth. Like a good Chanel suit, my blonde hair transcends the decades and never goes out of style. It doesn’t invalidate the wisdom I’ve gained at this age (nor the pounds, unfortunately); keeping gray at bay simply matches the youthful age I feel inside.
My Blonde Roots
I know that Omi, who at age 70 danced in her living-room to Tom Jones music, felt young, too. Yet I have childhood memories of sitting in her bathroom, watching as she donned plastic gloves and applied the contents of a Clairol bottle to her “light” hair. There’s no need to define those pale strands she was busy bleaching. To me, Omi was a blonde. Always was. Always will be.
So I’m staying true to my blonde roots. Just like her, I want to continue looking like myself, and myself is a 56-year-old woman with osteoarthritis in her knees, facial lines I fight with Botox, blonde hair, and the same style-loving spirit as my grandmother.
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Hillary Quinn has worked as an editor at various magazines in New York and is a well-known beauty and lifestyle writer. Her work has appeared in Elle, Cosmo, Bride’s, Good Housekeeping, and many other publications and websites.
Emily Vickers says
I say brava to you , Hillary Quinn, for keeping your blonde locks because you identify as ‘a blonde’ and always will. We all go one way or the other for different reasons… For me, I was married into a family of silver heroes and heroines (my husband started going gray at 17). So when my gray started to show, I had mucho support to let is go. I have never looked back and now appreciate all the $$ I’ve saved and fewer pollutants I’ve contributed to our eco-system by braving the slings and arrows of criticism I got back when going gray was definitely not cool… especially in the industry in which I worked – advertising photography. I had hair stylists approach me on set to warn me that NOTHING makes a woman look older than having gray hair. Hmmmm, as I looked at their wrinkles and split ends from too much sun and too many chemicals.
So I have no brief against one’s decision to stay the same color… but I question those who want to stay the SAME in all respects. I look at women trying to maintain not only their color, but their cut and style… from when they were in high school.. Their make-up, clothes, and attitudes too. It’s sad when women have so little sense of adventure and imagination that they want to look the same from cradle to grave. Must be boring for their husbands. But more important, it’s almost impossible to pull off AND it’s a dead giveaway for their fear of aging. I look back at my high school pictures… or even pictures from my mid-thirties… and cringe. Wouldn’t trade my evolving styles as I approach 70 (next week), for any look I had back then. Just my opinion.. we all have one, might as well express it!Cheers!
Susana says
You are free to spend your money and your time as you choose, but I came to the conclusion that I am not a brunette, I was brunette, and when I think of all the pollution that goes into water because of millions of woman tinting, I couldn’t keep it, I have grandkids and think of their future.
Leah N says
Kudos to you Hillary Quinn. I feel guilty dyeing my hair black as I have always loved my black hair. I am 56 myself and my white hair started showing when I was 45. I tried one time wearing my hair as it is sans dyeing but I didn’t feel good about the unevenly distributed salt & pepper color. Thank you for sharing this article and enlightening me on the matter.
Jeannie Ralston says
Thanks for sharing your thoughts! Love hearing from you.
Hillary Quinn says
Thank you so much, Leah! Us “dye-hard” fans needs to stick together…