Silver Spotlight ~ Chris Zuzze

I started coloring my hair when I was about 22 years old.  So very young for the vicious cycle to begin.   I learned at an early age the meaning of that terrible word “roots”.  I was streaked, light blonde, dark blonde, light brown, dark brown, red – any color you can think of.  But not matter what I did, after just a few short weeks, it would turn orange!!!  I always blamed it on the Florida sun, but I now believe the color simply washed right down the drain. 

In November 2011 I had enough.  I was sick of looking at every picture of myself and seeing that horrible orange, unnatural color.   I was determined to end this self-destructive “every two” week color routine.  I did almost cave a few days before Christmas.  But I was strong and thought – NO, it’s only one day.  It will be over in a short 24 hours.  I endured!!!  

After Christmas, I buzzed my head so it wouldn’t have to deal with the two-tone horrible look.  It was very short and I received a lot of criticism.  The people I worked with thought I had lost my mind.  But I prevailed.  I held my ground and just kept smiling.  Because I cut it so short, it was over very quickly for me.  All of a sudden I had the most beautiful, healthy, shiny silver hair.  People started to take a second look.  As it grew longer, I was getting more and more compliments.   The people that were so against me doing this “horrible” thing of letting my natural silver grow in, started to come around.  I started getting rave reviews!  I have never, ever been so happy.  It is the best decision I have made in my life!  I feel freer than I have felt in 40 years.  I very often see admiring glances from ladies and gentlemen and they are looking at my hair.  Without saying a word, I have influenced woman I care about to do the same thing.  I don’t believe in pushing my decision on others, but if just by looking at my hair, I encourage others to try the same – it brings me much joy. 

Well, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  This is one happy lady here.  I hope anyone that reads this might be so inclined to try it themselves.  If not, that’s ok too.  It’s a very personal choice and not for everyone.  Thank you for allowing me to express my thoughts.

Chris Zuzze, West Palm Beach, FL  (one very happy and free 60 year old!)

Decorating with gray...it's not just for hair

We choose our wardrobe and makeup with our lovely silver tresses in mind.  So why not decorate our homes to accentuate our crowning glory!  

Inspirational Silver Foxes...

Here are a few of my favorite, inspirational, Silver Foxes.  These ladies are beautiful, confident, talented, and loaded with style!  They are not "spring chickens" and they're not trying to be. But aren't they fabulous?  C

JENNIFER MORLA

American graphic designer and artist based in San Francisco, California

LINDA RODIN

Fashion Stylist, and creator of cult-beauty product Olio Lusso

MARY HEILMANN

American Artist, lives and works in New York, NY

IRIS APFEL

American businesswoman, interior designer, and style muse

TWYLA THARP

American dancer and choreographer, lives and works in NYC

One more time...going gray does not mean letting ourselves go!

We Silver Foxes know the difference between “going gray” and “letting ourselves go.” However, it has come to my attention recently that a lot of people still don’t seem to understand why “choosing to go gray” is not necessarily synonymous with “giving up.”

And I say to those people…have you looked at us lately? Because when I look around at all of my silver-haired friends, I see happy, confident, energetic, attractive, healthy, well-dressed, well-groomed, intelligent, and joyful ladies and gentlemen who are living life to the fullest.  Not a slacker in the bunch. We care about our appearance.  Isn’t that obvious?  

However, there is more to life than spending all of our time and money trying to look the way we did twenty years ago.  We are smoking’ right now…just the way we are! 

But don’t think that we don’t work at it.  We eat healthy, workout, do yoga, zumba and pilates, choose clothing that is becoming, comfortable, and expresses our personality, and use natural, non-toxic beauty products when we can find them.  (beauty industry, listen up!)  We may not be dying our hair, but we are certainly not letting ourselves go!

Get on the program, guys!  Gray hair does NOT mean giving up!

C

Spread the word...It's grayt to be gray!

Good Morning, Silver Foxes ~

Many of you have already heard my story, but for those of you who have not, here’s a recap…

A few years ago in my mid-fifties, I found myself in a dilemma…I guess you could call it a mid-life crisis.  I’d always been attractive.  Not beautiful.  But cute and confident.  To be honest, I kind of took my physical appearance for granted.  It was what it was, and I didn’t obsess about it.  I was really much more involved in what I was doing than how I looked…

But one day, after a couple of years of unfortunate events and relentless stress, topped off with a diagnosis of breast cancer, followed by surgery (lumpectomy) and six and a half weeks of radiation, I came face to face with an image in the mirror that, frankly, I didn’t recognize.  I was overweight and out of shape, my skin was puffy and blotchy, I had dark circles under my eyes, and my long, golden brown hair was turning gray.  “Wow!  When did that happen?” I thought.

I began to consider getting some “Mom” jeans and cutting and dying my hair at the suggestion of well-meaning friends who insisted that gaining weight was a natural part of aging, and that getting my hair cut and colored would make me look much younger.

Waiting for a radiation treatment, I was flipping through a magazine and saw a photo of Yasmina Rossi, with her waist length, silver hair, slim figure, and joyful demeanor.  She inspired me to be “me” again.  I realized I didn’t have to be the beaten-down woman that I was on the fast track to becoming!  I began working out again, resumed my yoga practice, and changed my diet.  Within a few months, I’d lost twenty plus pounds and was feeling great.  I was thrilled with my progress, however, most of my friends still wanted me to cut my hair and dye it.   I adamantly refused.  I loved my hair, and I loved the color.  And yes, silver/gray IS a color!

Flash forward to the present.  I’ll be sixty-one this month.  Still feeling great!  More active than ever.  And still love my long hair with the silver streaks.  So I was disheartened to read the eSalon article that pointed out that “my natural gray was dull, flat and lifeless,” and that “the truth is, natural gray hair makes people look older.”  How anyone can make such a sweeping, generalized statement is beyond my comprehension.  Oh, that’s right…Estelle is an “expert.”

My initial reaction was indignation and anger.  I’m so sick of the beauty industry and their relentless attacks on women who choose to age naturally and gracefully! Assisted by the media, they spread the mean-spirited message that we are lacking because we refuse to desperately cling to youth by dying our hair.  (I say women, because there doesn’t seem to be the same venomous prejudice toward men who don’t dye)  

But the real truth is…we look great!  We are a group of vibrant, confident, intelligent women, who will not be changed or brought down by a multi-million dollar industry that preys on fears and insecurities…for their financial gain!  

We are gray, and we are proud of who we are…the way we are! We are an enormous and formidable segment of the population.  Our numbers are growing like wildfire!  And we WILL change society’s dim view of aging and gray hair!  How?  

First, by example.  Who can resist healthy, active, intelligent, confident, and attractive silver-haired women (and men), enjoying every moment of life with joy and gusto?  After all, we are fabulous! 

Second.  We will put the message out there…with our books, blogs, posts, photos, articles, and a little help from Facebook and Twitter.  We will spread the word…”It’s grayt to be gray!”   

And third, with our dollars.  We’ve worked hard, we have the money, and we will buy…or not buy…the products we want.  And lets face it, the beauty industry is in it for the money. Eventually, they will come around if they want to stay in business.  If the demand is great enough, they will start developing products to care for our "foxy" silver hair…and abandon the horrible, toxic chemicals that cover it up!  We’re not bitter, but we are tenacious!  And we are not nearly as vulnerable as they think we are!

A special note to you ladies and gentlemen who dye.  We won’t stop you, criticize you, or judge you. (Although, we might one day inspire you to change your mind about dying :-)  It’s your hair, and you can do with it whatever you want to.  And you look lovely!  But please, just extend to us the same courtesy!  Estelle...are you listening?

C

Your Authentic Self...

image: marialuciauribe.blogspot.com

Au - then - tic (adjective)

1. Of undisputed origin  2. Genuine  3.  Made or done in the traditional or original way.  4. True

“I’M TRYING TO BE MY AUTHENTIC SELF.”

I hear people say this so often these days.  It seems to be the new feel good, warm and fuzzy, spiritual awakening, phrase of the moment.  But what does it really mean?  How can you be anyone but who you are?  And, if you have to work at making yourself into your authentic self, aren’t you becoming un-authentic?  Un-genuine?  Un-original?  Un-true?

After giving this subject much thought, I’ve come to the conclusion that being “authentic” has as much to do with “ACCEPTING who you are now” as it has to do with “BECOMING who you want to be.”

I used to be so into my “superficial” authentic self.  You know…expressing “who I wanted to be” through how I looked and how I dressed.  I starved myself in an unhealthy way to fit into my jeans, and wore shoes that could only be described as “torture devices.”  I wore lots of makeup and big flashy earrings that hurt my ears.  “No pain…no gain,” I thought, “as long as I LOOK good.”

But somewhere along the line, I figured out that no amount of dieting, makeup, provocative but uncomfortable clothing or bling could make me FEEL good about myself if I didn’t like ME.  So now, I eat generally healthy foods with the occasional splurge, wear enough makeup to brighten my face without putting on a mask, and dress in stylish, but simple, comfortable clothing.  I don’t dye my hair and I wear it long, because I like it this way, and I don’t consider cosmetic surgery an option for combating the physical signs of age.  I’m sixty…I am supposed to have gray hair and a few wrinkles. One day, I’ll be ninety and have more gray hair and even more wrinkles.  I’m ok with that…

And then, there’s the authentic self that applies to our relationship with the world we live in, and to our spirituality, and to what, if anything,  lies beyond our life on this earth.  What do we believe in?

When I was a child, I went to church.  I didn’t really love going to church.  I found sitting still and being quiet for an hour or so almost impossible.  But I believed in God.  To me, God was a benevolent, white haired, gentleman…larger than life…the Father of all fathers…who watched over me, cared for me, comforted me, and loved me.  I liked that.  

But one day, I stopped going.  I felt like organized religion was just a little too judgmental to suit my life-style. I still believed in God, of course, but I wanted to have fun!  I wanted to go out on Saturday night, sleep late on Sunday morning, and meet my friends for brunch on Sunday afternoon.  I missed church in a way, but it just didn’t fit into my agenda.

I became a free-spirit, world traveler, adventurer. Then I morphed into a somewhat more affluent, sophisticated version of a free-spirit, world traveler, adventurer.  I began to study Eastern philosophies, and started doing yoga and meditating regularly.  Somehow, it just seemed more accepting, open-minded, and worldly. I still kind of prayed to God in private, but publicly I appeared to be so much cooler!  I loved going to Buddhist study groups.  I enjoyed leaving my shoes at the door, lighting incense, and meditating in front of an altar.  It was all so “exotic.” But I always felt a little self-conscious.  You know the feeling…when you’re trying to be something you’re not.

Yoga was fun too.  There is a real sense of harmony and community in yoga classes, and everyone was so shiny and hip, with their coordinated yoga gear, groovy water bottles, and “Save the Planet” bumper stickers.

But eventually, I got tired of the dirty looks when I slipped up and didn’t call God “the Universe” or “Mother Earth,“ and the lectures about the evils of BBQ ribs, fried chicken, sweet tea, and tap water became tedious.  I never knew when I was going to be verbally assaulted for wearing a brand that didn’t exhibit acceptable social consciousness.  My circle of friends was so politically correct that I felt I had to second guess everything that came out of my mouth…and everything that went into my mouth.  I just didn’t feel like ME anymore.

And frankly, I began to grow weary of people who touted living simply and frugally, but who were driving around in BMW’s, wearing expensive designer clothing, and networking after class.  Not that there’s anything wrong with nice cars and clothes.  But it just seemed to go against the lifestyle they were promoting.  It didn’t feel “authentic.”  One of my favorite ah-ha moments was reading an article written by a yoga teacher (not anyone I know personally) on keeping your ego in check, that ended with a list of all of her “celebrity” students.

Don’t get me wrong.  I still have many friends who are fine and dedicated Buddhists and yoga practitioners.  I continue to study Eastern philosophies, and practice yoga and meditation daily. And I love and respect “Mother Earth.“  But I also eat fried chicken and ribs, and drink sweet tea and tap water…without shame or guilt.  Sometimes I go to church.  And I still talk to God every day.

My point?  “Authentic” is having the courage to accept who you are, inside and out, and to embrace what you believe, even if it’s not the expected thing, or the “in” thing.  “Authentic” is the ability to listen to your “bullshit” detector and act accordingly.  Just be YOU!  Yes, we learn and we grow, but in that growth process we must remain true to who we are in our heart of hearts.  We ARE original…We ARE authentic.  We just have to acknowledge it and own it...

C

Age Appropriate?

What is “age appropriate?”  Why are we encouraged (and occasionally nagged) to co-ordinate our actions, lifestyles, state of mind, mode of dress, makeup, hairstyles, etc., with a specific, chronological period of time?

It began when  I was a child.  “No!” my mother said. “You can’t read Peyton Place.  You’re too young.”  So I stole it out of her nightstand drawer while she was at work and read it anyway.  She was wrong.  I found it to be quite entertaining, and delightfully trashy…although a few of the more graphic sex scenes didn’t make sense until a few years later…

At fourteen, I took my hard earned babysitting money to Goldsmith’s to make my first “unsupervised” clothing purchase.  I came home with a little black dress.  Mom said black was “too mature” for a girl my age…but she let me keep it because I adamantly refused to take it back.  I mean…it had a white collar…and it made me feel glamorous and sophisticated…

When I was nineteen, I took off for New York City (from Memphis, TN) to “blow my life’s savings.” (Really? I had about $200)  At the bus station, I was told that I needed to “grow up and settle down…that going all the way to New York just to look at paintings in museums was frivolous and irresponsible…and that riding a bus for twenty six hours to a big city was dangerous (actually suicidal) for a naïve, young girl.”  That one was really confusing, as I was being asked to act like a mature adult, while being told that I was too young to embark on such an adventure.  So what was I?  Grown up? Child?  I didn’t care…I just wanted to see Picasso’s “Les Demoiselles d’Avignon.  I stood in front of that painting for hours…tears of joy running down my cheeks…in another little black dress…like Holly Golightly at Tiffany’s…heaven…

These days, I’m still experiencing ambiguous and conflicting messages, some from complete strangers, regarding my age appropriate appearance and lifestyle…or rather my absence of age appropriate appearance and lifestyle. While most people at sixty are comfortably ensconced in the “acquisition stage,” I’m getting rid of stuff.  Not that I ever had much stuff to begin with, because I’ve spent most of my adult life (and my money) on fabulous adventures.  Hoarding and saving for old age never made sense to me.

Most people don’t understand my retirement plan…to live in a vintage Airstream…to read and write and paint, overlooking a lake, a river, an ocean…to drink coffee and trade stories with quirky strangers in diners...to cook burgers on a big green egg…to never wear real shoes again.  I don’t want to spend my golden years dusting off knick-knacks and mowing the grass.  But they’re still telling me to “grow up.” …to “act my age.”  My response is, “I am acting my age…in my head and in my heart.”

And then, there’s my appearance.  I don’t dye my hair.  It’s silver…to my waist…and I like it that way.  People tell me, “you need to color your hair…the gray makes you look old.”  But those same people say, “you need to stop trying to look like a teenager and cut your hair into a more “age appropriate” style.”  So which is it?  Do I look too old…or too young?  Laughable really, since most of this sage advice comes from individuals who are dyed, stretched, injected, and sucked within an inch of their lives in a vain attempt to look twenty years younger.  Seriously?

My philosophy?  There is a right way and a wrong way for everyone.  But what’s right for one person is probably wrong for another.  Why can’t we just accept, and relish, the fact that we are all fascinating, fabulous, and unique individuals? If being able to check the age appropriate box is important, then please, do it!  If riding a scooter with gray braids flying sounds like fun, then hit the road!  If living in a nice house in the ’burbs is your life’s ambition, go for it!  If you want pink plastic flamingos in your flower beds, by all means, put them there.  And if you want to dye your hair the color it was in high school, or have your boobs lifted to where they were in high school, then I whole-heartedly support your efforts!  I just want to wash my silver hair and roll down the car windows to let it dry in the breeze.  I want to see my laugh lines and belly fat as signs of a life well lived.  My point?  We are free to be you and me.  Why would we want to be anyone else?

C