The Blonde Experiment

I am about to speak candidly about my observations and experiences pertaining to blonde hair dye.   If I offend, it is not intentional, but the truth must come out.   

For the background to my story, I will let you know I never started dyeing my hair until I was 29.  This gives me ample street cred as a brunette.  It's given me plenty of time for observation on how brunettes survive and exist. 

It all started when my cousin and I got old enough to date.  She was pretty and confident and almost two years older than me.  Growing up next to her wasn't easy.  The boys would be constantly calling for her and most of them she didn't care for.  Well, for a wallflower like me, there were always blind dates she could arrange for me.  The problem?  They all liked her and I couldn't prove enough of a distraction for them not to.  Can I go out on a limb and say being blonde helped?  Of course, important things like self-esteem and fashion sense help in one's plight which I didn't have either.  However on the nights of those blind dates we would spend hours getting ready.  By the time she was done with me I had enough makeup on to at least make it appear I was confident.

Well nothing ever transpired from those days, just worst self-esteem seeing that I couldn't even get one of my cousin's rejects.   I have the habit that if I'm made to feel like I don't measure up to a person or situation, I rebel from it.  I became anti-everything, and from there grew self-confidence.  I didn't say it made me prettier or happier, just confident. 

Then when I became a mom, caring about my looks took a backseat.  Slowly, from my parenting mags I took in advice about making yourself up and interviews from husbands about looks they like.  I never thought about it before.  My husband married me for me, would he like me to change my look? (Or lack thereof)  I started noticing when we would be in a mall, it would always be the blonde that would turn his head.  This made me mad.  What's in a hair color?  But it wasn't just him. 

An eye opening experience was when I went to the mall with my younger sister.  She is very pretty...and at the time, very blonde.  We went into a children's clothing store, I obviously the one with the child.  The clerk approaches her very friendly and says nothing to me.  It happens again in another store.  I make this into an observation game for the rest of the trip.  Walking behind her, I keep my eyes focused on everyone that comes in her path.  The men would stare at her and blonde women would give her dirty looks.  The latter made no sense to me.  She was only 20 years old at the time and these women ranging in age from teens to 40s would look at her as if to abhor her existence on the earth. 

Julio had been joking around about me going blonde for years.  I thought, well I was until I was four, it can't be that much of a stretch.  I became keenly aware of women and their hair.  I would ask myself, what makes this woman pretty?  I would notice facial features and not see anything special.  It was the blonde hair.  The color just seemed to offset any unattractiveness.  I began to notice women with pretty features could easily pull off brown or black hair.  Those colors enhanced their features.  I knew then for sure this blonde thing was for me.

Am I saying take away the color and blonde women wouldn't be pretty?  Of course not.  To me, it gives paticular women a little "umph"  to their looks.  I am one of those women that need it.  So now it was my turn out in public.  Would my blonde experience really be different?  I have to say in subtle, but interesting ways.  For one thing, I am not called ma'am anymore.  I prefer to be called "miss" anyday.  Julio has noticed I get checked out a lot more, which is something new to me.  What I find the most interesting is how other blonde women see me.  If I'm in a room of mostly men and a blonde woman walks in, the first thing she does is look at me as if to say, "What are you doing here?"  Perhaps, I'm stealing her spotlight?  I really can't stand how women can be so petty.  Unfortunetly, sometimes blonde and petty go hand-in-hand.  That's when I embrace the brunette within and feel good I have so much more to offer then my hair color.