meet me in montauk

{fig. 1} via concurrencies {fig. 2} via hiitstuesday {fig. 3} via fuckyeahtealbluegreenhair

In my teen years most of my gal friends were dying their hair every color of the rainbow. Supposedly most adolescent girls are subject to go through a "crazy hair" or rather a "creative hair" phase with Ramona Flowers as the Patron Saint. I never went through such a phase. Blame my naturally black-as-night locks that immediately turn red at the hint of any dye for my aversion to hair color experimentation. Now, years later I yearn for hair the color of sea spray and cotton candy and neon lights. Most of all, I am absolutely smitten with teal hair, like Clementine in Eternal Sunshine, only greener.

The photos above illustrate my point perfectly. In my mind the girl with teal hair is this romantic character who embraces spontaneity and laughs in the face of danger. She's the girl that pulls the fire alarm and then runs away leaving you to take the blame. She reads Baudelaire on Sunday mornings, and some days she just gets into the car to drive, destination: no where in particular. Her hair is magic and it is the source of all of her superpowers.