Gertrude’s Diary #59 – Fear

not really a picture of me

Someone said to me recently, “Gertrude, you’re so brave to let yourself go grey. I really admire you.”

I thought this was a very astute observation. Clearly, I’m mastering my fear every time I find myself in the L’Oreal aisle at the supermarket and am attracted by a box of Aztec Copper or the classic Mahogany Brown. Looking in the mirror at the silver hairs requires a stiff shot of brandy and a determined clenching of the jaw.

Before the moment when my friend spoke of it, I’d never really acknowledged my terror at the prospect of letting my hair grow, unmolested by strong chemicals and unsightly regrowth. Up until now I just thought I couldn’t be arsed.

Here are some other things that I fear:

Running out of butter.

Myself or a loved one choking on a fish bone.

Running out of tea.

Hippomonstrosesquippedialophobia.

Football season.

Not having anything to write about. (regarding which: ahh! ahhh! ahhhhhhh!)

Adults who are noticeably shorter than me. (Most unlikely to ever be tested by this one.)

Murderous psychopaths wielding blood stained knives. (An unusual one, I know.)

Until next time, fear not.

3 Responses to “Gertrude’s Diary #59 – Fear”

  1. Well if you can be brave for letting your hair go grey, I’m going to be brave for not bothering with a manicure and wearing my clothes unironed.

  2. brave indeed to resist the temptations of instant youth loreal fashion. what can you be thinking? have you not been watching tv or reading the magazines (owned by the same people…)?

    i fear that my insanity will consume me with bitterness and regret and that loneliness is only treatable by greed and consumerism.

  3. beware the dye job.
    grey hair coloured, leads to grey roots which look as bad as dark roots on suicide blondes.

    Think of all the classy-looking grey-haired women, and resist the urge.