My stylist is terrific, but not listening. She insists that the way to go is something called highlights and lowlights to blend the grey, but I’ve been doing that for 3 years now. At almost $300 a clip.
I saw a woman with the hair I want, and short of scalping her and taking it, I asked how she got there. She looked at my head and said quit the sylist. Her advice was let it grow and grow and wear a pony tail until the grey ( and these silly “lights” ) are all out of the way, then wack it off maybe chin length and viola, grey hair!!
I’m 70, and although I don’t think I look my age (SIDEBAR - ever meet someone who said Oh I totally look my age??) I am tired of the fight. It’s never going to be the glorious grey my mother has, but still.
So ladies who went grey, how did you do it. I expect some pain.
Grow it. Only way. My beloved pale blond is greying and doing stoopid crap. I’m learning to like a new me. It’s slow going. Goodluck. Quit fighting it.
Love grey hair. There is a mover ‘n’ shaker in our town (“Austin”) that had gorgeous streaky silver hair at 30. When my wife (at, ummm, no longer 30’s) was starting to dye her hair I’d say “It looks nice. Allllmost as nice as Austin’s.” And she’d sigh and say “True, Austin’s hair…”
So when she gave up and stopped dying/highlighting, I couldn’t wait to point out that her hair was now cooler than Austin’s.
But, people, authenticity is always better than fakery. Aluminum siding and highlighted hair are obviously not real. A woman with grey hair is so much more attractive than a “Glamazon” with $300 high/mid/lowlights.
Another vote for liking grey hair. My wife colors (dyes?) her hair because of a perceived age bias at work. I can see that as a valid excuse.
I totally look my age.
I stopped messing with my hair when I turned 50. No more coloring, no more perms. My natural hair is stick straight. I had the last perm cut off to where my hair was about 1-1/2 inches long.
It stuck straight up. I told everyone I went punk at 50.
I’ve finally settled on one inch long. I love it. I do nothing to it but wash it.
I am “hair emancipated.”
~VOW
~VOW, dearest board sister help me emancipate from my hair slavery. I’m truly sick of this crap. Should I go short by degrees? Or chop it off one fell swoop?
Beckers, I’m of the “yank off the bandaid” school of thought. Make plans to donate your hair to “Locks of Love” and whack it all off!
You’ll love your new freedom!
~VOW
I chopped off my hair once the processed stuff was past my shoulders in 2012 and have allowed it to just be itself. There is a lot of grey, some in streaks, the rest liberally sprinkled throughout, enough so that my hair looks considerably lighter than the dark auburn of my younger years. I don’t care for short hair on me, so I am pleased that it’s long enough to be contained in a braid that actually lays nicely over one shoulder. I can’t complain, it’s not white but silver, it sparkles, lol. My daughter calls it tinsel and is amused when I give her The Look! 
Well, OP, it’s like this - your stylist has a strong economic incentive to persuade you to do anything BUT go natural and to keep dying/styling/using product.
The only way to get your grey is to ditch the stylist (or, if you can, get one who will actually listen to you) and simply grow your hair out.
Honestly, the crap I’ve had to go through to JUST get a trim on my hair, it’s ridiculous. Occasionally, I’ve gone to barbers who seem much more willing to just trim my hair instead of gooking it up with “product” (half of which causes my scalp to break out in rashes and sores) and pushing pushing pushing to DO STUFF like curl it (my hair is naturally straight) and dye it and Og knows what else.
I’m starting to “frost” at the temples, just starting, and have zero intentions of doing anything to hide it.
Yeah, ditch the stylist. Me, I just go to Great Clips and tell them I want a classic bob. 99% of the time I get a positive response. The other 1% persist in trying to get me to layer my hair. Nope.
My hair started turning grey in my early 20s and except for the 3-4 years I had it professionally dyed red - just about the color of Scully’s hair and it looked, frankly, faboo on me - I just let it be. Now it’s turning my light brown hair more blondeish again. I think it looks great so I leave the color alone.
Honestly, I’m amazed at all the ‘just go natural’ calls here. Sad fact is, not all grey hair is equal, and not all people look great with grey hair.
I have a couple of friends with AMAZING silver hair - short, stylish, their skins glow, you name it. But these women are BLESSED. Blessed that they were blond before they went grey, so they never had twenty ‘salt and pepper years’ where they just looked like a dowdy grey day. They both have amazing skin, so they never looked washed and old beyond their years, unlike my other mate who has thrown off hair dye and gone from 45 to 60 over night (she’s 48).
Mother is 92. She stopped dying years ago and she’s still not silver grey. She has a big dark patch at the back (she’s just beyond caring).
All I’m saying is, when grey hair works, it works brilliantly, but don’t expect that’s automatically going to be you. If I wanted to go grey with grace and sparkle, rather than drop the dye altogether, I’d choose to dye silver - then you might get the effect your grey hair might never be able to achieve on its own.
I had some gray hair dye when I was a kid. Do it up!
But who says you have to look “amazing”? Some of my favorite people look, well, average. Can’t say I even notice what their hair or clothes look like.
A huge part of my freedom from worry was realizing that no one else cared about my hair, or my shoes… they cared about me, about my personality.
That’s where my going old “with grace and sparkle” come from. Walking down the street, smiling at people, maybe even whistling, with my mousy grey hair styled by the prevailing winds, not worrying about myself. (Well, I’m making progress on that last one, but it ain’t easy)
I’m going gray, but I gave up the color a long time ago. In fact, it was about thirteen years ago, and I gave up dying my hair black to let it go back to brown. My hair looked like crap for a long time (during which I got married, which is how I recall the time frame. My ugly hair is forever commemorated in those photos, but I was damned if I was going to start over from scratch!)
Depending on your rate of growth and how short you might be willing to go, you could be looking at a couple of years. I think it’s a great decision though. (Three hundred bucks, Jebus!)
I do occasional song parodies, usually based on traditional melodies. This piece is called The Wearing of the Gray sung to the tune of (obviously) The Wearing of the Green. Enjoy! Or Not!:
As I sat beneath the clippers shorn, brown locks were falling dead,
I spoke to move my middle part to the far side of my head.
As the stylist combed to lift my hair to lie the other way,
The woman staring from the glass was wearing of the gray.
“Who’s this stranger there?” I wondered, “Oh, it surely can’t be me.”
Just one moment’s hesitation, then I saw what was to be.
I could’ve gave the stylist cash to color it away,
But let me tell you why I chose the Wearing of the Gray.
For fifty years and more I’ve walked, and faced the fight of life,
Survival and experience through every stress and strife.
And it is our common lot to mourn the youth that fades away,
But women far more feel the shame of Wearing of the Gray.
If you’ve seen the show called Younger, or its ad blitz on TV,
A forty-something playing twenty offered as funny.
Yet how sad that such scenarios are offered up today
As proof that women choose to scorn the Wearing of the Gray.
For a world that weighs a woman’s worth by how she’d look in bed,
For every botox-stiffened face, and every pound we shed,
I will put those nineteen-eighties works back on my resume,
And go to those job interviews while Wearing of the Gray.
Like a silverback gorilla, I will show the world my age,
And society will tremble at my menopausal rage,
But in future years, I hope I live enough to see the day,
More women who like me are proud in Wearing of the Gray.
Glorious, Cats! My menopausal rage has been slightly tamped. 
Bingo. I’m never going to win a beauty contest (unless I’m going up against Swamp Thing and the Blob), and you know what? Don’t care. I’m much happier wearing comfy clothes and sneakers that support my feet properly than dressing up and wearing heels. My friends don’t care, either.
My grey hair might not be flattering - I’m not sure how well it goes with my skin tone, to be honest - but I don’t care because I think my hair looks good silvery.
Yeah, just let it be. For years my wife used to dye her hair blonde, which I never thought was good for her hair or scalp. She finally got tired of it, and just let it grow out to its natural color, which by then was turning. As the next few years went by, it was revealed that her ‘old lady’ hair color was a beautiful silvery blonde. At 73 she constantly gets compliments on it. I think that women or men who insist on dying their hair into old age just look silly and vain. Nobody believes that an 80 year old woman has deep brunette locks or flaming red hair.
My original hair color was dark brown. My girlfriend yanked out my first grey hair when I was fourteen.
In college, my stick-straight hair was in its glory–the style was “part it in the middle and wear it straight.” I had a patch of grey, well, silver, bisected by the middle part, and it looked amazing!
When I was cutting and perming, I had a brief period of time when my hair looked frosted. I got compliments, “Oh, who does the frosting in your hair, it’s beautiful!” I amswered, “God.”
Then there was a period of time where I not only had it cut and permed, but I colored it. Grey hair does NOT like coloring. I had to section my hair, use a paint brush to apply the coloring, and then sit for hours with that nasty goop dripping in my eyebrows.
So at fifty, I rebelled! I go to a barber, who uses the one inch clipper blade and off it goes! The hair all around my face is white. There is quite a bit of dark hair at the nape of my neck. So what? It is short, carefree, and I don’t give a damn any more!
The rest of my body is dry-dry-dry, but my scalp and hair are still as oily as ever. I wash what little bit of hair I have left with Dawn dish detergent.
Yes, I really do.
~VOW
Disclaimer: didn’t read the whole thread.
If your stylist isn’t listening, she isn’t “terrific.” Find another stylist. Seriously. For what you’re paying, you should be getting the results you want. A really *terrific *stylist will be able to do it.
In fact, when you see someone with hair you like, ask them who their stylist is and get the phone number. I’ve done this many, many times. Never a problem.