I am a 60-year-old woman with silver (I prefer that term) hair. And I'm darn proud of it. What is the problem with embracing your age and stage? Why do we need to feel or look like something other than what and where we are in life?
When I think of Fifty Shades of Grey, I'm not thinking of the mouth wateringly naughty best seller; the one I just couldn't put down. I'm referring to the ever burgeoning growth of silver on the top of my head.