Except for a brief hiatus when I had skin cancer and thought it might be a good idea to try the exotic brunette / light eye look, I have always been a near-platinum blonde. Fair haired and fair skinned with gray eyes, my Barbie doll combination rounded out with long legs and a serious, natural rack suits me to a tee. Call me a bimbo all you like, he’s asking me for my phone number—not you. Personally, I’d rather look like Pamela Anderson than just about anyone else on this planet. She knows how to work her blonde, embraces the sex symbol role playfully, and knows that her manufactured look—no matter how over-the-top—makes us all dream a little wetter. Love her or hate her—you cannot take your eyes off of her.
The thing about having a frienemy is that it’s a whole lot easier to criticize than accept her. Take Dr. Psycho, for instance. We met in the bathroom of a local pub one Happy Hour last year and really hit it off. We both love baseball, she was delightfully crass, and seeing that she was a plump, petite brunette, I figured we could go out and attract different men. At the time she wanted to become pregnant despite being 48-years-old and single. God bless her, right? The plan, as she explained it, was to either become a mother by the New Year or go blonde and lose 25 pounds.
Well, I guess this is one New Year’s Resolution that stuck, because she was able to take her dark, brunette shoulder-length hair to a brassy yellow and is now a size six. Bitch. What’s more, she started dating a guy whom I dated a few times and who pretty much pulled a Houdini on me and poofed like a ball of smoke right before my eyes. She’s always late, flirts with men I tell her I think are cute, and drinks so excessively that she flipped her car after having her license taken away for a DUI. What really gets me going, though, is that she claims she’s now a blonde.
This I cannot accept.
She’s been told that she looks younger, thinner, more approachable, more accessible, and with fewer wrinkles. She has even learned how to do the blonde flip and twist—she damn near throws a wink in when the crowd is right. At this point in her life—she’s currently approaching 50—now that she has lost the weight and the dark hairdo, she has a rotation of lovers to keep her busy on her days off. Dr. Psycho loves being a “blonde.”
Can you blame her?
Blondes are Grace Kelly elegant, Catherine Deneuve exquisite, and Marilyn Monroe enticing. Blondes glide into a crowd, pick up the glints of shine as our hair drapes down our back, and work the room by slightly flipping our soft locks lightly off of our delicate brow. We command (without saying a word) that you at least take a peek in our general direction. A blonde understands what it means to not get the joke and make that even funnier than the punch line. Not everyone can be a blonde. When Kim Kardashian tried blonde, she was found saying: “Blondes definitely have more fun, but brunettes are sexier.” Spoken like a true blue blonde-wanna-be who couldn’t quite make the cut.