Brunettes are the fairest of them all!
I'M glad the world has finally realised what those of us on the dark side have known all along. Brunettes are better than blondes.
Like most brunettes, I have to admit I have wondered whether I could go blonde. It's such a temptation when you see transformations like that of Britney Murphy, morphing from the tubby frizzy brunette in Clueless to the svelte siren on the pages of the glossy magazines. It has made me think that perhaps I too could transform my life with a bottle of bleach.
I've even paid for novelty pictures of myself to see what I would look like as a blonde. But they were so uncomplimentary I was ashamed to show them to anybody. Since then I have resolved myself to sticking with my dark hair.
Even if I had looked acceptable as a blonde, I would have been reluctant to lighten my locks. I would have felt I was losing a bit of what I am.
Although blonde looks fun, girlish and cute, that's just not me. I'd rather be interesting, intelligent and glamorous. And there's just something about dark hair that makes a girl seem all those things.
Blondes may have the reputation for being the sexiest, but in my opinion, they just don't live up to their own hype. There's something about beautiful brunettes that puts them on a different level to beautiful blondes.
They have a rich, glossy, goddess-like appearance that blondes just can't achieve - no matter how many special blonde hair products they use.
I wouldn't want to be a fake blonde, hiding my roots (in more sense than one), blending in with the crowd, and being the butt of blonde jokes. Besides, it's not bad being in the same club as the women at the top of the Most Beautiful list this year.
MAYBE this is just wishful thinking, or a little bit of vanity on my part, but I've always thought that brunettes exude a certain air of mysteriousness.
It may be because there are so few cliches and stereotypes attached to being dark-haired.
Compared to blondes and redheads, we've traditionally got off lightly, with just the odd comment about bookishness thrown in our direction, which, in my book at least, is not an insult.
I mean, blondes, according to conventional wisdom are 'bimbos' who have all the fun. And red-headed girls are all a bit fiery and passionate but also temperamental.
But what about brunettes? Well no one really knows - hence the mystique attached to having a main of dark locks.
We're the proverbial dark horses, the beauties relaxing in the shadows content to watch the world, instead of grabbing it by the teeth and shouting look at me.
I've always been dark - save for the few years of childhood when my hair boarded on blonde, but even then is was more golden than white.
And even with the advent of home hair colouring kits, I've always favoured auburn to accentuate my dark hair, rather than wanting to bleach all the colour away.
I did once put a blonde hair dye through my hair, not knowing that it wouldn't work with out bleaching - I had a head of quite striking orange hair for a whole season as soon as the sun came out.
With the exception of that one lapse of taste and judgement I have no intentions of forsaking my natural brunette tresses for a bold, brashy and fake head of sunshine, which all too often can end up looking dull and unappetising.
Blondes may have all the fun and gentlemen may prefer blondes, to steal a couple of cliches, but I'd take mystique and just a hint of Eastern promise over that any day of the week.
MY family, you've got to love 'em.
Not only do they tease me, cajole me, support me and adore me, they're also first in the queue to ask my why I'm the only person in the entire world with light roots.
Yes, you read that right, I have light roots.
Because, you see, I THINK I'm a dirty blonde (and not in the way you're thinking, thank you very much).
I was a white-haired child until I was about seven, when I started to enter the realms of said dirty blondeness.
By 14 I was big haired and white again, this time done by professionals who took my money so I'd look like a car seat cover or 'soft' goth.
I suppose you could say I suited blonde; after all, I'm very pale skinned, have little or no body hair - and what's of it is baby fine and almost white - and all I was doing was brightening up my filthy mousiness to make it a little, well, cleaner looking.
But then, aged about 15, came the epiphany - a bottle of mam Jones' hair dye in the bathroom cabinet.
That, coupled with a sense of boredom on a Saturday afternoon and a Johnny Ball-like wish to experiment, turned me from blonde to brunette in 20 minutes flat.
And I loved it. Ok, so it made me look pale (face like a bucket Mrs J calls it) and rather interesting (that's my addition), but I feel more attractive darker, certainly more alluring (well, in my mind anyway!).
That's not to say that I wouldn't ever resort to walking on the lighter side of follicles again - I'm just too tight to pay for the touch-ups.
With freckles and pale skin I think I'd make for an interesting looking blonde. I'd probably look like the reverse of the girl in films who takes off her glasses and becomes beautiful. All I could imagine my hair turning into is some yellow, straw like freaky concoction. It'd be like a scarecrow, ugh.
Give me my dark locks any day.
Actually mine aren't really that dark, they fluctuate and have more depth than a whole head of blonde could have.
Firstly there's brown, then tinges of red, some hints of blonde and the odd stand of grey.
Lovely, it's like a veritable hair rainbow.
I can't imagine a time whenever I've wanted to be a blonde, they just don't appeal. I can remember the time I wanted dreadlocks or an Afro, but I never got tempted to stick my head into a bucket of bleach and strip it from any colour that it had.
Besides all the inevitable blonde jokes, that yellow coloured hair is really just too bubbly for me. It just makes me think of giggly girls who always coyly twist their fingers round their hair. Obviously that's a massive generalisation, but hey, they're my thoughts.
So for someone who can be rather cynical, sarcastic and has a sharp tongue, blonde just wouldn't suit my personality. I'd much rather be thought of as a dark horse that people have to try and work out than have immediate stereotypes springing to mind. But then maybe my mind might change with age. My mum, who I'd never imagine would become a blonde, is becoming lighter as the years tick on. And it looks really good on her. But as for me, at the moment, I'd rather stay feisty and unpredictable as the family's dark haired one.
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|Publication:||Western Mail (Cardiff, Wales)|
|Date:||Jun 7, 2005|
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