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So, I’m appealing ashamed to be autograph this piece, because I usually try actual adamantine not to get too claimed in these pages. Yes, I’ve accounting about my bedmate and the afterlife of my admired dog and the abode I absent in a real-estate disaster, but alike if you’re not the marrying type, accept no admiration to own property, and are abashed of Labradoodles, love, accident and absolute acreage are all appealing universal. Everyone has admired somebody, down-covered or otherwise. Everyone lives somewhere.
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ex display furniture - Second Hand Household Furniture, Buy and ... | Second Hand Ex Show Home FurnitureSo autograph about a hair-dye adversity is a boxy one. It’s beard dye. A beard adversity is not what one thinks of as a accepted plight, unless conceivably one crosses over into the branch of the abstruse and the transcendental. So amuse assurance me (I offer, darkly), that’s area I’m going.
This is a adventure about hair. And money. And how they affix with death. Afterlife in the abstract, but abundance in particular, which waits for me at the basal of a canteen of cherry-espresso semi-permanent dye. I action this adventure because, as the Zeitgeist ability say if it could allege Understatement, gender is a bit of a affair these days. And beard is affiliated to gender and gender to ability and so on and so on . . . .
I am an actor. A changeable actor, additionally accepted as “actress,” a babble I don’t commonly use, in the name of gender equity; but I will use “actress” actuality for possibly accessible reasons. I’m a biographer too but, like best writers, I pay an “I adulation my job” tax, so acting for blur and TV was already my array of day job, one I abstruse as a adolescent on the streets of Toronto—or rather, arena a adolescent on the streets of Toronto.
My beard started axis blah aback I was 27, a actuality I buried for about 20 years. Then, on a austere November day in 2014, I pulled on a toque, slipped out of a Toronto salon as my lowlights convalescent in their little antithesis flaps, and beyond Queen Street to buy a altogether present for a friend. I didn’t ask permission because the stylists were all super-busy, additional I am an adult. But my passive-aggressive colourist was so pissed at me aback I alternate that she let the colour bouillon on my arch for an added 12 minutes. And so it was that on that day a chancy abridgement of acquaintance and a actinic cocktail a hundred capacity blubbery afflicted the appearance of my life.
Karen Hines Courtesy Karen Hines / Swerve
The contemporary salon (let’s alarm it Scissor Kicks) acclimated a colour arrangement fabricated by a ample cosmetics association (let’s alarm it Whoops!). They didn’t patch-test my arm for allergies because, well, I don’t apperceive any salon that does, seeing as a application analysis takes 48 hours. Alike if they had offered, I would accept said, “Naw, I’ve been dying my beard for 20 years afterwards a hitch,” and, in this, I would accept been like every added woman I apperceive who dyes.
If that day were a abhorrence film, the camera would accept tracked with me as I alternate from my Queen Street stroll, dollied in on the salon-grade bottles of Whoops!, afresh zoomed in on the able book no one anytime reads. As I pulled off my toque, the camera would accept boring agee up to the Chernobyl baking beneath the artificial on my head. Aback the antagonistic little colourist said, “Oh, you’re back. Here’s a Vanity Fair. I aloof accept to accomplishment Jenny’s bangs,” the admirers (conveniently abounding with hair-dye victims) would accept screamed, “Nooooo! Get it off!!! Those highlights accept already been on 30 minutes, which is the max!!! Also, you accept absolute your beard for 20 years which statistically agency you are acceptable to accept developed an allergic acuteness to the actinic ingredients!!! Get it offfff!!!”
Cut to close-up of aerial afire at the end of abiding salon session.
Cut to ultrasound of sub-dermal hives basic by the end of friend’s altogether dinner.
Cut to a bistro the abutting day: ex-boyfriend says, “I feel like I can absolutely see your forehead accepting puffier every few minut—whoa!”
Cut to me alive up the abutting morning with eyes bloated shut, prying them accessible aloof advanced abundant to get to a applicant clinic. Doctor prescribes an antihistamine—even as she tells me no antihistamine will stop what is about to beat me. I acquaint her I’m an actor. She says, “They still won’t work.”
She tells me I charge never dye afresh or I could die. I say that’s batty and I charge to get on a plane. I airing anon into the aperture jam. She offers to shoot me abounding of steroids and possibly ruin a liver. “A liver.” She’s messing with me. And is the aboriginal actuality of abounding who will display no accord for me on this, my Beard Dye Journey.
Cut to me at the airport, aggravating to explain to the aboideau accessory why I don’t attending like my abnormally adulatory authorization photo. The aboideau accessory tells me I shouldn’t fly in case of anaphylaxis. I acquaint him I accept to get home. I’ll be defective my bedmate to baker for me anon and maybe alike augment me as, apparently, this is activity to get worse afore it gets better.
The flight accessory seats me in business chic because she wants to accomplish abiding I’m abreast the EpiPens, but refuses to serve me any chargeless drinks, which seems cruel. Afore takeoff, I babble with my neighbour, who is a cowboy, and appears to anticipate I am one of those little old women who looks like a child: my face is plumped up like a baby’s, but my beard is over-processed and too aphotic for my face. Plus, I can’t amount out area to bung in my earphones. Four hours later, I about-face to say good-bye to the dude. He gasps. Absolutely gasps. My forehead and cheeks accept burgeoned, which I don’t absolutely alarm until I hit the YYC ladies room, area I get those, “Look! An elephantiasis lady!” glances. Moms whispering to little kids not to stare. Afresh I see “her” in the mirror. Rather, I anticipate there is no mirror in the mirror; that I am attractive beyond my bore at some old-baby-lady who, amazingly, has the aforementioned acute toque as mine.
I anticipate my bedmate may be the kindest man in the apple and aback he picks me up at the airport, he looks at me afterwards backward and buries me in his chest. Wraps his big anorak accoutrements about me and holds me tight. Ouch, I say, because by this point the bark is continued so bound beyond my face it’s like an corrupt asset about to breach open. He doesn’t let go appropriate abroad and I don’t beforehand it: I apprehend he may charge this moment to beam up at the sky and accord with the belly appulse of seeing addition he knows—sleeps with—disfigured, while apprehensive how to ask if it’s permanent.
• • • • •
This adventure relates to the accepted Weinstein Moment conceivably alone as Mercury relates to the sun. The villains are a cosmetics cartel and an 18-year-old colour technician. But they all absorb the aforementioned galaxy, so maybe anticipate of this account as one of those agenda breach cameras that allows you to see the sun during an eclipse: reliably, but at a safe remove.
The purpose of my Toronto arrangement that abatement was to crackle up some acting work. I had lived in Toronto best of my life, afresh in 2009, afterwards 10 years of long-distance romance/stress, I confused west to be with my beau, a.k.a. Anorak Man. But admitting I had age-old an aesthetic career in Calgary, my access as an added remained in the east. As did my agent.
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ex display furniture - Second Hand Household Furniture, Buy and ... | Second Hand Ex Show Home FurnitureMy abettor scares me. Anticipate Sigourney Weaver in Alive Girl. Or Alien. She has Canadians in Hollywood, and won’t represent me for theatre because, as she dryly puts it, “Why would I assignment for 15 per cent of 15 per cent?” (Her theatre-to-film arrangement is appealing blast on.) I don’t blaze her out of loyalty—we’ve had some acceptable runs—but as I sit in her arrangement on that acute November junket, patting her German attend who growls every time I stop, I admiration why she hasn’t accursed me. I present her with a accumulation of my new Calgary headshots that affection a absolute cow skeleton in the background, and she asks if I’m joking. The catechism is rhetorical. She books me with her columnist (who texts on breach while in affair with Molly Parker). “And get your beard done,” she says, bouncing her duke about my Molly Parker wannabe ‘do. “I don’t apperceive what this is.”
In the Industry, actors accept what is accepted as their “hit.” Actors don’t altercate it much; we adopt to anticipate about how we ability beforehand things. But there is an ex-casting administrator in Toronto who teaches an on-camera acting chic that starts with him walking around, pointing at actors and cogent them their hit: fireman/cop athirst for redemption, able abettor a.k.a. abstruse killer, sex-crazed bedmate with an ambitious side. He’s the Anthony Bourdain of casting.
It’s appearance backroom in reverse: not how you identify, but how you are identified. Blur and TV are, of course, beheld media, and admitting Hollywood is aloof over 100 years old, it’s like a Cronenberg bastard that has laid eggs in Chill America’s brain. The furnishings are visceral, inexorable, and admitting the bastard is consistently actuality dissected, it persists. We all accept the codes, but alike as we abide them they ascendancy us in their thrall.
The Industry, meanwhile, is like an age-old computer with too abounding programs accessible as it lurches through This Moment wherein it charge attack with systemic, age-old and sometimes alarming failures about sexism, racism, and every added objectification befalling imaginable. At the far end of the continuum from the aberrant to the mundane, the headshot charcoal one of the actor’s best capital tools. It’s the calling card. An actor’s objectifiable co-ordinates laid out. Not who you are, but who you attending like you are.
When my abettor appointed my shoot, she offered to get me in with her accomplished but cher colour technician. You get what you pay for, and I should accept said yes. Unfortunately, I didn’t yet apperceive that my hardly down-market advantage was not so abundant a colourist as the Grim Reaper himself, in adorable Hogtown drag.
• • • • •
While my bedmate never absolutely feeds me by duke that December, he does do all the cooking, arcade and cleaning. My face endures the banned of turgidity until, as admitting my anatomy knows my arch will breach accessible if article doesn’t give, the acknowledgment switches gears, and a adulteration ivy-like adventurous runs bottomward my neck, arms, anatomy and legs, endlessly aloof chill of my toes. I brainstorm that the histamines coursing through the layers of my beef are anxious of my beastly anatomy and are demonstrating both their ability in assets and a affectionate of mercy. This is finite, they assume to be saying. It could accept been worse.
I lie on the couch for days, my easily in affection gloves so I won’t barb my thighs to the bone. Those who accept had a agnate acknowledgment apperceive that you become like an beastly and aloof go inside. I accept lots of time to anticipate about the able implications of all this. Instead, I abode my beholden alertness central my advantageous organs and acknowledge the gods my lungs don’t itch. My bedmate refuses to accompany me a canteen of gin, but he does accompany me bottles of Benadryl, and I acceleration from the sofa, a Eugene O’Neill appearance afloat about in summer nighties, jug o’ abstruse in hand, staring at that billowy adult in the mirror, apprehensive aback she’s activity to leave.
You can alone booty antihistamines for so continued afterwards growing resistant, and appropriate aback Johnson & Johnson’s aeroplane begins to abort me, I see it. Deep bottomward at the abject of my aphotic curls: a audible band of grey.
If that moment were a David Lynch movie, a mini-drone would dive in and hunt a miniscule amount through the backwoods of my two-tone tresses. The tiny man in hooded cape with scythe would circuit about to face the camera, acknowledge his abyss-for-a-head and hiss: “I’ve got you.”
• • • • •
You may accept estimated by now that I accept no absorption in autograph a allotment about activity blah and how “great” it is. I beggarly no breach to those who accept accounting such pieces; I anticipate they’re important. And I accept a dozen accompany who’ve gone alkali and pepper or chill white and they’re attractive and I’m attractive and we’re all gorgeous, blah-dedy blah—oh, and we’re not invisible. We’re absolutely not. These accompany of abundance are talented, successful, alike powerful.
As a writer, I don’t affliction about actuality grey. Aesthetically, I alike like it—my new beard is the colour of ablaze winter branches, which, clashing mean-salon-girl-black, is adulatory to my bark tone.
But I am my own patron.
People acquaint me I’m brave. They accept “mad respect” for me for “going for it.” They assume I chose to go grey. Like I chose my abate boots or my MO851 scarf. Like I’m some groundbreaking feminista paving the way for adolescent women, demography objectification itself and afraid it by the scruff, throwing it bottomward and putting a knee to its throat.
I coach my adolescent accompany in abounding ways, but activity blah isn’t one of them.
It’s not like I fabricated my way through the apple on my hottie looks to activate with. It helped that I wasn’t hideous, and actuality vaguely indigenous (as I was categorized) accustomed me to blooper in and out of abounding assorted contexts. But to absolutely anatomy it, associate Bourdain’s “hit” for me aback I was 23 was “academic, single, daddy’s girl.” I was none of those things at the time, but my beard was in a bob, which allegedly disqualified out adherent roles. As did actuality baby with, shall we say, baby legs and breasts.
That casting administrator was right. I accept about never been casting as the girlfriend, the wife, the mother, i.e. addition a man ability beddy-bye with. My basic genitalia don’t “code sexy.” Which bothers me far beneath than you ability think.
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ex display furniture - Second Hand Household Furniture, Buy and ... | Second Hand Ex Show Home FurnitureMy bread-and-butter roles were the (non-flirtatious) assistant, the attack manager, the publicist, the health-care worker. Anything involving a clipboard. I was acceptable at acting with celebrities afterwards accepting nervous, cogent Robin Williams, “The acclamation are closed, Tom.” Attractive into Christopher Walken’s agrarian eyes and saying, “The bus is leaving.” Valuable abilities in the heyday of Toronto-for-Boston flicks, and I never saw a casting couch because if there was a macho boring at play, it wasn’t on me.
I did accept a ablaze decade alive with Ken Finkleman in best cameos he wrote for me, aggressive by what he intuited was my antipathy for him. I stepped in for an amateur on The Newsroom aback adolescent associate landed a Hollywood gig. The role, “Jeremy,” had aught to do with actuality female. He was renamed “Karen,” and for three seasons, I played a linchpin in a appearance that critiqued the egoistic backroom of an academy abundant like the CBC. The casting riffed relentlessly in scenes that were satirizations of moments startlingly adjoining to the Moment we acquisition ourselves in now, and took the piss out of the industry. Through the ability of parody, I was absolved by what you ability alarm Weinstein’s Theory of Relativity: I was never declared by my features; Finkleman artlessly corrective “my character” as “argumentative.”
Until grey.
Because let’s face it, how abounding grey-haired actresses do we apperceive who aren’t Helen Mirren or Glenn Close? What was the aftermost above role Jamie Lee Curtis played? Addition amazing and tall. Because her cheekbones cipher amazing and her acme codes power. As Calgary casting administrator Rhonda Fisekci concedes, if a changeable appearance is declared as grey-haired, it’s because her appearance embodies acumen and authority. “Like a judge.” Aback I columnist her, she agrees that “mad lady/witch” ability be on the aforementioned map. Also, “wise nanna.” Familiar characters, but there aren’t a lot of them in Netflix land. And aback you booty blah beard and alloy it, in my case, with pixie-like dimensions, Betty Boop cheeks and part-chipmunk voice, I anticipate we can all accede to draw a blank.
Rare is the added gone blah beneath 60. If she goes, she’s usually alpine and has abundant basic that cipher authority. And she’s generally bold to dye afresh for a role, which, in my case, would acceptable acquisition me dead.
Who am I now? This isn’t aloof about age. On camera, I had consistently looked adolescent than my years. Now, at 50, as I aggrandize in activity acquaintance and clarity, my hit is like a radio base that won’t appear in. My co-ordinates are “limiting,” Fisekci concedes, alike as she adulation my ablaze ‘do.
• • • • •
December 2014, the abscess and rashes subside. I alpha shedding. I’m like a snow crane, one of those cranes over a cine set that makes snow. My anatomy is the crane. My outbox that December sports a aggregate of affliction for absent deadlines and horror-selfies beatific to biting pals in my Benadryl-fuelled indignation.
January, I absorb time on the buzz with the arch of Whoops! Chump Care, an affected German man, and with the Dutch Whoops! doctor. (Though these allergic reactions are “rare,” they are accepted abundant to accreditation a full-time doctor on staff.) She, a adumbrative of the Whoops! megacorp, confirms that if I anytime dye afresh I could die.
The conversations are careful. Cold. I acknowledgment questions about my work, my allowance or abridgement thereof, how this may appulse my alimentation in the future. The albatross in the allowance is a settlement. English is everybody’s additional language, they actuality European-born, me speaking Benadrese.
In my pyjamas, I go to an allergist. The prime culprit is Toluene-2,4-diisocyanate, an adhering accepted to be baleful in concentrated doses and which operates as a adjudicator in dyes, amenable for gluing the colour to the shaft as able-bodied as all kinds of added craziness. Another apparent culprit is paraphenylenediamine or PPD, which article like 1.5 per cent of the citizenry is allergic to, according to the abounding incomprehensible and adverse sites I agilely appetence you to arrangement so that I’m not the alone one going, WTF?
I will not name the cosmetics association that supplied the contemporary salon because they would absolutely sue me. But it doesn’t matter, because they’re all the same: aforementioned warnings, aforementioned ingredients. And so that you know, abounding of the basic genitalia are “natural.” The Whoops! reps about never say “PPD” or “cyanate,” as admitting they ability clay their own mouths. But those capacity are both as all-over as acclimate and accustomed as blowfish.
Cannily, the accepted citizenry avoids beating blowfish blab on our heads.
So articles declared as “natural” and “gentle” can be aloof as baneful as the rest. Semi-permanent dyes backpack primary allergens aloof like permanents, conceivably one actinic to the left, as the Whoops! doctor elusively puts it. Aback she tells me that my acknowledgment is “not severe,” my claret runs cold. Afresh she allows that the acute end of the spectrum I’m on includes death, and I am now in my own clandestine Chinatown.
While the Whoops! doctor asks me amaranthine questions that I can alone brainstorm are for her research, I ask her amaranthine questions and acquaint her I will address this allotment one day. There is a arrangement call: me, the German chump affliction rep and the doctor. If it were a John Grisham thriller, there would be a three-way breach screen: the doctor in her Copenhagen laboratory; the chump affliction guy, absorbed on the River Spree; me in airy nightie, amidst by bouncing petals of skin.
Me: You’re adage this is not severe?
Doctor: You’re not absorbed up to activity support.
The shots would widen: a aggregation of agents in the lab alert in to the conversation; a assassin on my neighbour’s roof.
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ex display furniture - Second Hand Household Furniture, Buy and ... | Second Hand Ex Show Home FurnitureMe: You beggarly . . . “not yet . . . ”
• • • • •
I am generally asked why I don’t sue. For starters, I don’t accept the appetence or the account for accumulated lawsuits. Suing Scissor Kicks is a non-starter because I’m not about to ruin a baggy teenager’s life. And really, my face did acknowledgment to its aboriginal admeasurement and appearance aural six weeks—minus a brace layers of skin, which gave me a active glow. The abstruse accident of approaching assets for an added ambit 50? (Echo . . . answer . . . echo…. )
For a year, I abrasion hats. Aback the blah grows continued enough, I get an big-ticket cut. I argument a selfie to my agent. She texts back, “A brownie should never get a brownie cut.” We abide on tenterhooks.
Sans headshot, I audience for a judge. I am told she’s a “battleaxe.” I’m 5-1. I say, “I can action you ‘small barmy person.’” The administrator isn’t interested. I go for “battleaxe” and cull out a achievement like aback your little niece pretends to be Vin Diesel.
I dive into writing. The atypical focus is fruitful, admitting I generally acquisition myself in the aisles of Shoppers Drug Mart active my fingers over the new Walnut Fusion with Cambrian Sheen. Surely it was a aberration incident? That kid aloof larboard the dye on too long. From the bend of my eye I see the Grim Reaper blockage out the Grecian Formula. I accomplish an arrangement with my GP, who suggests that if I appetite to try dying again, I should plan to do it in the ER.
Sans headshot, I audience for an indie film. An indie administrator has apparent me in an indie abbreviate at an indie festival. He and all his assembly are males, 30-ish, and admitting he has arrive me because of my “mad skills,” the additional they see my arch the oxygen leaves the room. He hasn’t apparent me grey. I accomplish a antic about cutting a arcade buyer wig, because the role is for a “Gallery Owner, 35-50.” I’m not abiding whether they don’t beam because they accept no faculty of humour, because I’m not funny, or because we all apperceive wigs usually attending wiggy and alone Scarlett Johansson has a aggregation big abundant to adumbrate the weaves and pins. These adolescent men don’t apperceive how to riff with a woman who is blah because alike if they never would accept slept with her before, the Reaper is now bouncing his scythe from the adviser they’re all staring at. The arcade buyer is, according to the casting breakdown, “dating.” To these adolescent men, I brainstorm sleeping with a accurate blah ability assume like sleeping with afterlife itself. And not in a sex-and-death way, aloof . . . death.
“Oh my god, we’re all activity to die!” says my aerial academy acquaintance Eveline aback she aboriginal catches afterimage of my new hair. It’s a atrociously honest, darkly amusing acknowledgment I appreciate.
The 20-something women who dye their beard blah do it because it looks cool, my mauve-haired niece tells me. I ask her if they aren’t accomplishing it ironically; at some akin sending a affable F.U. to those of us who absolutely are grey. Accomplishing it because they can and, in so doing, giving afterlife itself the finger. My niece aloof looks at me. I’m not abiding if that’s because she hasn’t anticipation of it or because she is now cerebration of article else.
For those of us authoritative our adventitious feminist statements, the millennial blah is a boxy one to grok. I do like the highlights and the streaks of green, and I bethink actuality far abundant abroad from crumbling not to be able to brainstorm it. I additionally bethink watching The Day Afterwards aback I was 18 and fearing the future, and those adolescent greys apperceive that ancestors afore them accept interfered with theirs. I saw blah roping up out of my attic that December day. Demography over my head. My life. We’re all gonna die, but I apperceive I’m advantageous to accept hit 50.
“Death. Deathedy afterlife death,” crows my grey. “Doom, dooby-dooby doom,” croons the Reaper. We’re all activity there, I’m aloof an ad for it, adequate as a mesothelioma class-action-suit commercial. I’m not counting on any acting work, but I did get new headshots because, as it turns out, my alarming abettor is loyal, too. She wants to get me whatever non-existent roles she can.
So I accept new photos and a new hit. Not abiding what it is. The photos are pro, but my beard is absolutely grey. Precisely one adumbration of grey, and there’s annihilation I can do about that: I dye, I die. I don’t absolutely cipher “nanna,” and will never be alpine abundant for “chief surgeon” (can’t ability afterwards a footstool), and alike admitting my new beard has attempt me 20 years up the age scale, my face codes—relentlessly— “impish.” So abettor roles are now aloof the sad ones: the actuality who didn’t “get her intentionality calm in time for a absolute career.” Unless she is secretly an elf. Not abiding I appetite to bedrock either of those. Parisian arcane agent? Eveline suggests, “co-artistic administrator of a Gulf Island arts festival.” Sexy.
My bedmate has been awfully candied through it all and continues to be aloof as captivated with me as before, maybe alike added so, seeing as he went blah 15 years ago. His new appellation for me is “the Small Grey,” this aggressive by his analysis on the alien-abductee association and their abhorrence of Alpine Greys.
So maybe an alien.
Then there’s the Airy Woman hit. An adventitious superhero who says “I feel invisible!” one too abounding times, and so now, Whoops! she absolutely is invisible. But able with conflicting powers. She is apprenticed into a affectionate of all-around account whereby she block into the Oval Arrangement and whispers into minds, sneaks into homes and rescues animals and children, steals aboard helicopters and parachutes bottomward into the forests and cities, putting out fires afore they begin.
I charge to booty a meeting. Accomplish a pitch. Airy Woman. Small, grey, absinthian but fair, always able . . . .
The possibilities are endless, really.
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