Die Job … By Whitney Farmer – Un Pop Culture

June 22, 2011 Whitney Farmer 23 Comments

Whitney runs a rock music venue on the beach in L.A.. She has an M.B.A, and enjoys seeing Vin Diesel movies with her mom.

Whether it is at the grocery store or the Wal-Mart, the aisle displaying hair dye is full of promise. The stories that could be written by opening any of the boxes might be as exotic as any epic written in hieroglyphics on the wall of a palace of an Egyptian queen, or in a Renaissance fresco from a Master who used paints filled with crushed jewels to give brilliance. There is something spiritually powerful about a woman’s hair.  Once when I missed my little sister, I was standing in the hair dye aisle and called her in Brooklyn because I wanted her advice on what color to BE as an excuse to hear the voice that I missed. She answered the phone 3,000 miles away while also standing in the hair dye aisle.

I was due for a new DMV picture last week, and I was faced with the question of how I wanted to look for the next four years.  The last time, I had been a redhead because I was coming out of a period of battle.  I tend to go red to help give me courage when I’m at war, and I was leaving a company after being sexually hunted by my boss until I was about a week away from going postal.  I had signed on for only a year contract with the possibility of an extension.  The job was in education – training, data analysis, and policy consulting – and I was convinced it was important and that I might be able to have some impact.  I weighed my choices about what to do. If I filed a complaint, the entire scope of my contract would be entangled in investigations or even litigation.  And any progress that I could hope to make towards the vision that I wanted to help would probably be sabotaged to damage my credibility. (Check out this heavy-duty research: “Intimidation Rituals: Reactions to Reform”. Rory O’Day, Journal of Applied Behavioral Sciences, July 1974, vol. 10, no. 3. 373-386)…  Mr. Boss Man had been with the company for over 20 years, and I didn’t expect anyone to believe me over him. So…I did nothing. Perhaps more accurately, I did do what I thought was the best I could do under the circumstances.

First, I made certain that I was scheduled to be on the road for business a minimum of three weeks each month. This way, I only had to dodge being alone with him for the four to five business days that I was home.  I missed my family, but at least I had an income to give them.

Second, I dyed my hair red.  Originally, it was because I knew that my boss didn’t like red hair, and I wanted to do everything I could to make myself unattractive to him personally. Plus, the company was very conservative.  For someone to show up unexpectedly as a redhead could frighten off a predator, I hoped just like on the Discovery Channel when a small bird gets the upper hand by flashing bright feathers and a ferocious attitude and saves the nest. The last time I had gone red was after my marriage broke up.  My husband hated red hair, so I did it as a sign to him that I was no longer his.  But it ended up being a too guilty pleasure as I landed in my new city and new life with dates lined up, and a sobbing voice mail from him on my cell phone.

The red hair did well for me, until I went to the salon of a hairdresser in Beverly Hills who had a crush on my boyfriend. He looked me in the eye in the mirror as he held up a lock of hair and chopped it off before I could protest. He said, “It’s just hair.”  This happened to me again a few years later, and I ended up involuntarily short brown after a salon owner took me out of a competition I didn’t know I was in for her guy who sat on a company board with me.  I had zero interest in her guy, especially since she bragged that he would truss her up in duct tape when she would step out of line. She proudly displayed the pictures while I was in her chair to me to prove it.

When I came back to L.A. four years ago and to the DMV, I still was red from my last siege. With my fiery hair, purple shirt, and huge hoop earrings, I looked ready to rumble or party, but not peaceful.  I wanted something different for my new life that was full of sunshine, so I went blonde. As my appointment for my new picture approached last week, I was conflicted. I am at war again, and I feel the urge to go red. But would I want to be reminded of this time when it’s past, win or lose?

I regularly thank God for my job. But I also pray for strength and wisdom to maneuver through politics and ambition and curses. One woman I work with said to me the first time I welcomed her to the club, “Just to let you know, I’m after your job.” I added her to the pile. I work with people who are brilliant and gifted and strong and honest, and I work with people who are not.  Not certain if the outcome will be in my favor, but I try to plot as straight a course as possible to doing my job well so that I won’t lose any sleep at night. No one can be perfect, but I am haunted if I don’t nail those things that I can control. That keeps me busy. I don’t have many resources that I can afford to assign to keeping track of people who hate me. What I have learned is that those who hate you are as clear an indication of your character as those who love you. If everyone loves you, than you may be the problem.

I didn’t dye my hair for my DMV picture. But I did wear the same outfit as four years ago with the exception of slightly smaller hoop earrings.  I intend to wear the same outfit four years from now, and so on.  Yes, this allows me to watch my physical decline with time lapse photography, but I don’t have to figure out what to wear.

I did dye my hair a week later. I decided to go back to the color that is who I need to be right now. I went back to the color I had when I was seven years old. Then, I played in the sunshine instead of sunbathed. I made people angry because I wouldn’t pose pretty for pictures. I loved learning, and I loved easily. And I was only scared of the right things: Sharks and hornets.

When I see myself in the mirror now, I recognize myself again. Any battles I fight will only be a part of the life that I have, and that life will not be defined by conflict. Right now, I look perfect.

But perfect may be redefined soon. My sisters are coming into town in two weeks. Hairplay will ensue, mark my words.

Quote of the Blog, lyrics from Julie Brown: “ I know lots of people are smarter than me. But I have this philosophy: So what? Cuz I’m a blonde yeah yeah yeah. I’m a blonde. B-L-O…I don’t know. nyah nyah nyah…”