My head hair reminds me of what gorilla hair would look like if you poached it. I’m not sure why it necessarily has to be poached, but the dead gorillas you see in Dian Fossey documentaries lack a luster to them that I think befits the current color of my hair.
In the months that it was regrowing, it was curious shade of gray that we all we struggled to label. Andy proactively tried to remedy this. He turned to me from the passenger seat of Dy’s car and looked at me intently. “It’s like duckling gray,” he said helpfully.
How proud am I to tell him that it’s now been upgraded to poached gorilla black.
