Because, sometimes, I wonder about these things.
When I was a brunette, I was single and dating and falling in love and making a lot of money. I was a new mom – with chubby babies and carpeted floors, with boundless energy for whipping up goodies for appetizers and desserts. My cheeks were dewy and eyes bright with wonder at almost every little thing. (*delayed reactionary afterthought – carpeted floors are squishy and the best place for your feet on a cold morning…now that I don’t have them…I really miss them)
When I was blonde, I mean really blonde, no one saw it, except my husband. It lasted about a week, and I kept in under wraps because, well, it literally frightened him. I bought this ‘amazing’ color and as a bored new wife (while I was still searching for a full-time job) and decided it was time for a change. Um, it was bad. It was like Madonna-Blonde from her Material Girl days. It was platinum gone wrong. Not only that but it got worse…see because I was bored I decided to cut my hair and sort of got carried away. Evening out one side, then the other, and back again. It was the worst short bob I ever had because I looked like the Buster Brown character.
Being a devout religious Jewish woman, I cover my hair in public. At the time, just being blonde wouldn’t have been so bad, however since I cut it so short, there were lots of pins and clips and soft head-bands to try to keep it all from spilling out from under my hat or bandanna or wig. It was torture. Definitely not more fun being than being a brunette.
A few days later I bought another box of magic and returned to a color that resembled my original hair color and so I decided to experiment with food when things got too boring.
Over the years I’ve picked wig colors that were closest to my natural hair color and people were always surprised and assumed I was a natural blonde. That always had me making this weird face – I mean, there are wedding pictures in my house where my brown hair is prominently displayed. Perhaps being fair and with pretty thin eyebrows made them think this way, I’m not really sure! Certainly seeing me with my children maybe by association they thought I was blonde. 5 for 5 all blondes!
Over the years, I’ve played with various colors as I dyed my hair for fun and for some reason no matter what color I chose, Chestnut, Nutmeg, Natural Blonde (even!) sort of came out looking reddish. When it came time to buy a new wig, I actually wanted to go blonde(r) since everyone thought I was blonde anyway…so I tried on a few different shades and when I finally settled on a nice in-between color, I was nervous. I never stepped out as a blonde before, but the feedback was great and everyone said how natural it looked with my skin tone. I chose a longer more luxurious style than I had before and the truth is I do feel more young and maybe see myself as more fun. That could also have to do with my age though, the older one becomes the more confident they become.
I am now older, wiser and blonde(r) but ‘fun’ means something different to me so maybe I missed my opportunity to get what people say about being blonde. To me, fun is reading a book under a cozy blanket or watching a movie with my friends or family. Fun is observing my children when they don’t see me watching them. Fun means gathering around a table fit for a king with delicious food platters and a festive atmosphere. Would I still like to stick my head out the window of a car speeding down the longest stretch of highway with the wind whipping my “hair”? Yes. But not because I’m ‘blonde’. Would I do it? Probably not, I’d probably wear a hat!
I don’t think having fun is a blonde thing or a hair thing. Having fun varies depending on one’s age. And at any age Dr. Seuss gives sage advice even on a rainy day, “I know it is wet and the sun is not sunny, but we can have lots of good fun that is funny.”
― Dr. Seuss, The Cat in the Hat