Do you go gently into that gray night?

Hair. It's one of the few personal vanities I indulged in.

I was not blessed with the cultural standards of beauty for my country. No delicate elfin bone structure for me. No, sir. I'm made up from sturdier stock. My Mediterranean heritage, the one I so strongly identified with growing up, is less Sofia Loren, more angry fish wife. The rest of me is made up of the kind of people who are designed to survive in a cold climate and subsist on potatoes, cabbage and the odd bit of meat. In short, I'm full on peasant stock no matter what side I look at.

The apron says party but the face says shrew. I like it.

So I loved my hair. The color, the Rapunzel thickness, how fast it grew out after unforgiving haircuts. The fact that my hair is thinning because of a medical condition is a sore spot for me.

The thing I've been silently watching for has finally come to pass. A bumper crop of silvery gray strands have appeared, on New Year's Day no less.

Because I'm a research nut, I looked up the average age a woman starts to go gray. Did you know that among other factors, the natural color if your hair is a factor? Apparently with my dark tresses, I was due about 4 years ago. And considering some of my siblings went gray in college, I'm kind of pleased I got a bit of a reprieve.

But here I am. Light glittering on the top of my head like I'm a walking mirror ball. And it begs the question: to color or not to color? Do I want to try the confidant, natural look? Or do I want to buy out the nearest store of every root touch up kit they have?

How vain am I about to get as I kiss my beloved natural color adieu? I suppose at this stage it boils down to how wacky the gray comes in. And maybe this is the perfect time to put in those blue or rainbow highlights I've always wanted.