By: Mahla Rae, SFU student You only remember me when you want a bright new hair colour to make you feel cool, or a touchup to your contrasting roots to hide your true look. I know what you think of me. The labels you all put on me — “temporary,” “one-use,” and “hair-dye.” I notice how you treat me, shoving me in the dark of your medicine cabinets until you decide I’m useful. You live your life until one day, you have an exam to study for, and suddenly you just need to change something, so you decide to take…
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