May 15, 2012
I woke up early with a nervous curiosity. I was about to have my hair colored by someone new for the first time in more than five years. After living in Paris for close to a year now, I have been extremely lucky that this moment did not happen months ago. My longtime hair colorist, Aura Friedman, travels to Paris for Fashion Week with Serge Normant and had been wonderful enough to color my hair in her downtime in her hotel bathroom between shows. This season, however, she was needed in Los Angeles, so I was forced to put my hair in the hands of someone new.
There are not many people I trust more than my hair colorist. My Norwegian roots make it impossible for me to dye my hair completely black, something I have desired since I was a teenager listening to heavy metal music in my bedroom. After several years of tinkering, Aura and I found the perfect mix of dark brown and red, or what my boyfriend so lovingly calls purple, to give my hair the edgy dark appeal that I desired without making me look like I just walked off of the Twilight set.