My hair is streaky pink and blonde with ever-emerging brown roots. I know that this marks me as Other in any number of ways.
It also looks interesting, artistic, and if I may be so egotistical, fucking cool.
I received two comments on my hair in the last 24 hours, and while the actual words used did not match my emotional reactions to them, the ways in which they were given dictated such.
Yesterday, I went to a fancy tea with some lovely fannish ladies I know.
Outside the hotel, a late-30s/early-40s woman said, "Oh wow, excuse me, how many colors are in your hair?" There was a note of awe in her voice that suggested that even if she didn't like pink hair, per se, she appreciated the uniqueness that two-weeks-out-from-dyeing hair can have. She even said as much.
Her comment, while not explicitly a "I like the way your hair looks" comment, was said politely and with a tone of respect, and it made me feel good for the rest of the afternoon.
This morning, as I turned the corner to get to the subway, a dude called out at me, "Ooh baby, I love the way your hair looks like that, yeah!" (Or some similar Smarmadon sentence.)
I found myself wanting to shout, "NOT YOURS!" at him, as he seemed hipster enough to know LOLspeak when he heard it.
I contented myself with musing on the differences between what had been said to me, and how the less "complimentary" of the two comments had felt so much better.