Cosmetic compromise leads to self-revelation

Do I really want to spend US$300,000 for this haircut?
The line is not mine, but it's part of the reason there was an unfamiliar blonde staring back at me not too long ago.
Months before I decided to embrace my follicular future with open arms.
Instead of fighting greying roots, I explored a way of gracefully, allowing my hair to be itself - while retaining a little bit of aesthetic appeal.
I was told it was best to strip artificial colour as a first step. That a clean, lovely white would be stunning. It would.
The farce was that it would have to be an artificially induced one - for now. Being able to see clearly into the future for a change, I thought this was better than maintaining colour that no longer graces an increasing number of strands. With time, I'd be on the winning side.
It turns out that my allergy to commuting meant that the hairdresser was - well, shocked with the outcome.
The walking-distance salon that I frequented used a brand and chemical unknown to the hairdresser - which is saying something. B?eing ambassador for a major hair colouring company, she knows them all.
The long and short of it is that I, who had never experimented with colour in my youth - went through a quick transition from dark to very intensely orange (courtesy of the unknown chemical at the cheap convenient place), to having great chunks of my hair chopped out - following the line of orange that wouldn't budge.
Three colour-stripping sessions later (people didn't know whether to congratulate me for being so daring or to look away in pity at what could be conceived as a midlife existential crisis - but no bloke with a red Ferrari to share it with) - I was a blonde. A sort of orange-tinged one. And not by design.
My desire to spend less - less money and less time - had been upset. Back to my opening line. Warren Buffet said it.
According to his biography - The Snowball - a young, not yet Oracle, thought about the money he wouldn't have decades in the future because of the $10 cost of a haircut he'd pay out in his present.
Any money he couldn't invest was money that would never grow. That's his thinking.
Yes, Mr Buffett is an exception. And a very difficult act to follow. Especially when you compound his then US$10 a haircut back in 1956 onwards in Berkshire shares.
He was way off the mark at $300,000 though - the hairdressing money would have accumulated to more than $1 million so far. (Over 20 per cent return on average every year since he set up his first partnership).
Back to me: I'm happy to report that I am now at the very pinnacle of the trend curve - and in very good A-list company too, sporting an intentional silver head.
I also made the decision to never use nail varnish again - it costs, takes time and looks rubbish if not maintained. And so I, who chip and smudge before I've unlocked the car, have stopped with manicures.
You might think that I'm "letting go". Not quite, I still love my red lippie and bright clothes. It's about where my life energy, and money goes.
It's partly me figuring out the right way to live my life. I could do worse than look to Mr Buffett for guidance. And on this note, I'll leave you with more of his wisdom - wisdom that I am yet to master:
"The difference between successful people and really successful people is that really successful people say no to almost everything."
And: "Rule No 1: never lose money; rule No 2: don't ever forget rule No 1."
I wonder how many of us follow his path.
Nima Abu Wardeh describes herself using three words: Person. Parent. Pupil. Each day she works out which one gets priority, sharing her journey on finding-nima.com.
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