“A woman should wear fragrance wherever she expects to be kissed”-Coco Chanel
Laura Reynolds looks at some of the cheapest beauty products available
Most people are surprised to learn I’m not a natural blonde. My colour of choice is a more golden tone rather than the “almost-white” shade that seems to adorn many perma-tanned young women. Being “natural-blonde-when-young-but-then-mucked-around-with-dye-and-turned-into-mousey-brown” also has its advantages because my skin tone isn’t totally alien to the lighter colour.
Just before starting university, I made the decision to turn to the light side, sick of my boring shade that was neither blonde nor brown and would never turn the beautiful shade of auburn that I lusted over so much. Choking fumes of ammonia in my bathroom during the process were not particularly encouraging, neither were the horrified protestations of my friends, who were convinced I was going to turn into some kind of yellow-tressed Medusa, complete with snake-skin handbag and matching shoes.
It was however, the best decision I could have made. My new hair looked amazing and I welcomed the compliments that came my way. Starting at York meant that no-one knew of my change, and I felt like a new person, with confidence and poise. Changing your hair colour seems like a trivial and rather frivolous foray into improving your self-esteem, but when you feel confident in how you look, you act confidently. Of course as time went by, I began to notice slight changes in the way people treated me as opposed to when I was mousey brown.
3 assumptions about being blonde –
Obviously hair colour is not an indication of intelligence. But the dumb blonde stereotype is alive and well, with many career women turning brunette in an attempt to be taken more seriously in the workplace. This isn’t a problem amongst friends or people that know you well enough to realise that you can actually string an articulate sentence together, but I have experienced male and female strangers who feel they have to explain something to me that little bit more slowly or loudly. Of course this stereotype isn’t a problem because to the people that actually matter, i.e. friends or seminar tutors, if you are intelligent then they will realise this as soon as you open your mouth, regardless of being blonde or not.
The image of a blonde, fake-boobed Playboy bunny is one iconic blonde image that is not going to go away in a hurry. Blondes are traditionally seen as easy and eager to please, and when you picture a porn star, chances are you’ll imagine a blonde. But in real life, as a real blonde, I didn’t find this a problem. Sluttiness is sluttiness, irrespective of hair colour, and while I found that I had to avoid majorly low-cut tops or tiny skirts because they instantly looked sluttier on me, my non-blonde friends and I were getting an equal amount of attention from the pervy men in Reflex, regardless of our hair. Joie de vivre.
In my Freshers' Week I was stopped by a guy in the street who peered blearily into my face and asked “Are you Swedish?” Despite assuring him in my extremely English accent that I was in fact, not Scandinavian, he persisted in believing it until eventually I agreed with him. Whilst both intoxicated from the revelry of Freshers' Week, there was a part of me that felt strangely chuffed. I’m sure blonde Swedes have more fun than English blondes anyway.
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