Self image is a strange thing. All our life we're only able to see ourselves through our own eyes. Usually we assume other people see us the same way, but the fact is, they don't. This past Thursday night I was enlightened to that fact once again. I was doing some Christmas shopping at the local Fred Meyer store, when I had two brief, yet very different, encounters...
I hadn't been there very long when I noticed a woman looking my way. I didn't think twice about it at first, but a short time later, I caught her looking again. (woohoo!) It's been a long time since I had that little rush of excitement. It's not like she was trying to make eye contact or anything, but it clearly wasn't accidental either. She was an attractive brunette, and of a similar age, but I couldn't see if she was wearing a ring. As I was continued on, I felt a hand on my back and heard a woman's voice. “Excuse me.” Sure enough, as I turned, I was pleased to see the same woman smiling up at me.
“Hi” I said as I looked down at her hand. (crap, she's wearing a ring) Obviously this wasn't going to go the direction I'd have liked.
Since she was likely married, I began to brace myself for the ever-awkward Stephen King question. “Sorry to bother you, but...” (great, here it comes) “...can I ask what cologne you're wearing?” (wow. I didn't see that one coming) “Sure. Eternity, by Calvin Klein.” I said. She smiled and expressed her gratitude, saying how she'd like to get some for her husband. (damn!) She continued on by assuring me that clearly my most attractive feature was my odor, and how she hoped she would soon be able actually make a man she was attracted to smell as good as me. Actually, I'm not too certain she actually said that last part, but that's the way I heard it.
Just as quickly as the encounter had started, it was over. We exchanged holiday wishes, bid farewell, and went back to our shopping. I guess the best way to look at it is; A compliment is a compliment.
Note to self: Keep wearing Eternity.
A short time later, I had moved on to the toy section looking for something for my niece Meagan. As I was walking past one aisle, a young woman was pushing a loaded shopping cart while directing two young boys. She looked up at me and shot a broad lingering smile my way. (holy crap, was there some young dude standing behind me that I didn't notice?) Did I misinterpret what was meant as a polite holiday smile? I awkwardly smiled back and kept shuffling straight ahead. (get real, there's no way she was smiling at me.) Oh well.
A couple aisles down, I found a promising Barbie aisle and ducked in to investigate. As I was checking out the latest assortment of costumed dolls, I could hear the same young mother nearby talking to her boys.
Eventually I abandoned the doll aisle and forged on to look for SpongeBob stuff. As I was rounding the corner of a new aisle, I felt a hand on my back for the second time that night. (Oooo... could it be?)
I turned around anxiously. There stood a man I'd never seen before. “Excuse me. Sorry to bother you, but can I ask what kind of hair coloring you use?” (WTF?) Oh, did I mention he had gray hair?
Now here I have to explain a little bit... This is the third time in the last year or so that I've been asked about coloring my hair, and I'm becoming very sensitive to it. The truth is that I don't use any hair coloring. None. Zippo. Nada.
I've always said that no matter what direction my hair took in life, I'd never resort to toupees, artificial coloring, comb-overs, weaves, plugs, spray paint, or any other means of artificially enhancing my hair. I'd let nature take its course. Neither gray hair nor balding would be the end of the world to me -- especially when I consider the alternative. I'd hate to have people even think I'm coloring my hair.
Luckily, at 45 years-old, I'm still blessed with a fairly thick head of hair, free of gray. (knock on wood) So what's the problem you ask? My beard. The picture of me in the above header of this site was taken a couple of years ago, and clearly shows me with a salt-and-pepper beard. The problem is that since that picture was taken -- especially in the past year -- my beard has gone almost completely gray. So this brings up a scenario I'd never considered until recently; What if people think you're coloring your hair because your beard is completely gray, but your hair isn't? Is it any more or less acceptable to vainly try to reverse people's assumptions by dying my gray beard to match my natural hair color? Going the natural route was supposed to alleviate misconceptions, not create them.
Getting back to my encounter... I evidently acted somewhat indignant in telling the guy that I didn't color my hair. He was very apologetic and tried to recover by being complimentary. After a few awkward moments, he went back to shopping, while I was left to flail in my newly heightened insecurities.
Consider for a second the following two certainties: First, we all are constantly making judgments by observation, yet we nearly never walk up to strangers and share those thoughts. Second, if a reasonable person does decide to instigate such an encounter, they are pretty certain they're judgments are correct. So logically, for every person I encounter that either compliments or criticizes, there are lots of other people that think exactly the same thing but don't have the balls to say so. Therefore, the only logical conclusion can be that there are lots of people that think I color my hair! Now the question becomes, what do I do about it?
After much contemplation I have an answer: Who cares? Chicks dig the way I smell.
(Clearly I need therapy)
tags: self-image, self image, hair coloring, cologne