Frank: Are you sure you’re ok with this, Blue?
Blue: Just ring the &%@!ing bell, you pansy.
~ Old School
This beautiful lady is my fabulous friend, Marisa.
Marisa owns an absolutely lovely and very chic salon on Newbury Street in Boston. For those of you unfamiliar with our fair city, Newbury Street is our somewhat provincial yet charming version of New York’s Fifth Avenue or Beverly Hills’ Rodeo Drive. It’s ritzy. It’s fashionable. It’s home to swoon-worthy boutiques like Chanel, Cartier, Burberry, Loro Piana and Valentino. And this (click on the picture):
Marisa is a genius with both cut and color. Of course, in Marisa’s world ‘color’ usually means caramel or sun-kissed, golden, chestnut, ash or auburn. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t include electric blue. Well, at least not usually.
I texted Marisa in a panic. I was at work and had no time to explain that my husband had volunteered to sacrifice his gorgeous head of hair to the cause or that he was subsequently calling me from a beauty supply shop in a suburban strip mall while sending me photos of the sides of the dye boxes and saying things like, ‘OK, this one says we have to strip the color out first, so I have to figure out where to get the bleach I guess. Hmm, maybe we can just use peroxide. I’ll ask. Babe, you won’t dye my ears, right? That’s really all I’m worried about. I’d hate to walk around with blue ears. But the rest will be fine. We may just have to do it a few times. So, which one do you think I should get – the Glow in the Dark Atomic Blue or the Splat Rebellious Indigo?”
I told him not to buy any of them until I had a chance to talk to Marisa. Ostensibly to get her advice on what to do. But listen, if you have the choice between talking to Gordon Ramsey about the best way to julienne a carrot and having him make you a six-course dinner, I’d say you’re sittin’ pretty while he cooks.
So the text went like this:
Jess: Hey, Lady, it’s Jess. What are the odds you might be coerced into donating an electric blue dye job for autism awareness? *bats eyelashes and tries to look cute*
Marisa: Absolutely! When do you need it?
Jess: Hooray!!! I love you!!!!
Yup, that was it. Sum total. She was in.
Ed note: People often ask me how I ‘do it all’. I don’t. I just surround myself with amazing, talented, generous people like Marisa who take no convincing whatsoever nor demand an explanation when I show up with totally off-the-wall requests. Which I do with some regularity.
And so it was that yesterday Marisa’s ever-so-chic salon retreat looked just a little bit like a college-town piercing, tattoo and color parlor. But just a little. OK, not really at all. But it did look like this:
Which in the end, made him look like this:
(I took the photo above with my phone last night in terrible light. I’ll post a better one soon where you can really see the color. It’s um – well, it’s REALLY blue.)
Thank you again to all of you who pushed us over our goal and in so doing helped us contribute so heartily to autism research, treatment and services.
Thank you to Marisa for saying yes. For donating her time, her salon, her talent and her heart to the cause.
And most of all, thank you to the guy in the picture. It takes a hell of a dad to go to these lengths for his girl.
When he read Wednesday’s story about the teenagers at the farmer’s market looking at Brooke and asking one another ‘What’s wrong with her?” he wrote the following.
Oh boy. My first, unedited thought was, “.. and in part, this is why I am dyeing my hair tomorrow.” To those that say “Enough” to the awareness campaigns, I say, “No, not enough…never enough.”
We went out to dinner as a family last night. Three people asked about the hair. Three people heard the explanation. Three people know just a little more about autism today than they did yesterday. In one outing, our girl gained three more allies.
Go get em, Blue. I’m proud of you.
For more pictures and Luau’s take on the story, click HERE.