Grayceful

Why Grayceful?

Within every woman who has decided to go gray, there’s a story. Some didn’t want to be bothered with the mess of coloring at home or the expense of going to a salon, others decided they like the color gray and some decided to buck the trend of keeping women in a pseudo youth bubble and didn’t allow society to dictate their definition of beauty but rather, defined beauty for themselves.

This site will share the stories of Grayceful Women. Here’s mine:

My Grayceful Story

If the cancer hadn’t killed her, surely my decision to go gray would have sent my mother to the grave. Memories of my mother fussing with her hair go back as far as I can remember. The standing Friday afternoon appointment with Alexander at the legendry Kenneth’s in New York City; hours spent on keeping the hairdo “fresh” as the next week’s appointment neared and countless dollars spent on products. Hair talk always dominated the conversation when friends came over and chatted with mom. Her hair was her obsession. And certainly, when she was fighting cancer, she wasn’t going to let her chemo-bald-head stop her from glamming out. She had custom-made wigs and we even named them: Beauty #1, Beauty #2 and Beauty #3. So naturally, when I went gray at around 45, I colored my hair. But soon that became tedious. And expensive. But most of all, ugly.

“Tricolore”, or three colors, was a term I associated with those delicious Italian cookies I make for my son, Charlie. But I started to associate my hair with this spectrum of color. First, there was my birth color, almost black. Then there was the newly dyed color; really, really, almost black. And then, after the first day of coloring my hair, the color began to fade to a brassy looking orange. Within two days, the color vanished from the crown of my head making the rim around my face a silver lining, and not the good kind of silver lining.  So, my hair became a menagerie of colors that was not only ugly, but embarrassing.

I started to wonder what I was hiding. It was obvious I was coloring my hair because my hair didn’t take to the dyes, no matter who did it or how much I spent. Why was I putting all this effort into covering up what I was becoming, a typical woman in her mid-40’s?  I started to notice a nagging trend once I went gray. And that was that both women AND men were telling me to dye my hair. It seems strange to me that as a society, we accept men who go gray but when women go gray, they’re seen as taking a ‘fall from grace.’ In my own way, I wanted to show that going gray could be beautiful.

I thought about the few women I knew who embraced their gray hair. First there was my Aunt Josseline who went gray at a very young age and was one of the very first young, Grayceful Women I knew. At first, my mother was flabbergasted but she came around to seeing how gorgeous her sister-in-law was.

Then when my kids were in elementary school, there was a mom I’d see at pick-up. She was younger than me but had a lot of gray. From a distance, I admired her for her style, her hair, her clothes, her whole vibe. She doesn’t know this, and I don’t even know if she knows who I am, but she was a big influence on my decision to choose gray. She was the epitome of Grayceful.

My friend, Portia Kamons, producer, writer and all things amazing, would only have her hair dyed by a woman in London who used organic products. I started wondering; what was I doing to my body with so many chemicals?

But most of all, my mom influenced me. I saw how sad it made her to grow older and how hard she fought to hold onto her youthful glow. As important as it was for her to hold on, it was equally important for me to let go.  I decided to embrace the youthful spirit of my soul without minding the obvious distinction of my graying hair. Once I did that, going gray became a Grayceful journey through this wonderful time of my life.

And the moment I chose to do away with the hair color, I changed. Choosing to be a Grayceful Woman made me feel proud of my age, rather than ashamed of it. My children were lovely about it. My firstborn Georgia would gently take a wisp of my hair and tuck it behind my ear and tell me she thinks the gray is beautiful. And my youngest, Charlie just loved me no matter what and I knew he thought his mom’s gray was pretty.  My husband reserved judgment until he saw how happy I was -- seeing my joy makes him happy. My hairdresser, the amazing and beautiful Nona Kirakosyan was a little skeptical at first but then she saw how beautiful my gray made me feel and now she’s convinced. Once I realized that going gray was an option, a calm rushed over me and I felt a little lighter, I had peace of mind.  

How Grayceful.com Started

The idea of sharing pictures and stories of Grayceful Women is not mine alone. My amazing friend, director, writer and executive coach Michelle Fiordaliso came up to me one day, just as we began a friendship that I know will be a lifelong one, and asked if she could take my picture and tell the story of why I chose to keep my gray for a project she was doing called, “Fifty Shades of Gray.” We never got around to that photo-op, but a few weeks later, I asked her if she would be interested in blogging with me on a regular basis about women going gray. I shared with her some of the many name ideas I had for a blog. She smiled and said; “Donna Mendes (that’s what she likes to call me), I have too much on my plate. Take it and run with it – It’s yours.” I love you, Michelle, thank you.

So, here we are. I’ve decided to share my story about being Grayceful but more importantly, I wanted to share the stories of other women who chose to go gray.  I promise you, within every gray-haired woman, is a unique story about how she became a Grayceful Woman.