I hate it when girls call themselves pretty. Whether or not it’s true, it’s highly annoying and is the fastest way to guarantee your standing as one of those girls who “doesn’t have a lot of girl friends.” Which everyone knows is just code for “I’m a major bitch.” Like, have you ever heard Beyoncé refer to herself as “Queen B”? No.
So, I’ll say it like this: I’ve never been unattractive. In college, I would go out with my friends and guys would approach me, some would buy me drinks, a few may even ask for my number. But, I was never the front-runner. Guys would never make a beeline for me. My group of friends was never approached by a guy and his buddies because one of them was trying to get my attention. It was always for one of my friends, or to be more specific, usually one of my roommates. But the summer after graduation, all of that changed. And it was all because I dyed my hair blonde.
Like a lot of people, I had blonde hair when I was younger. But eventually, it began to fade, so at the tender age of sixteen, I committed myself to a life of chestnut brown. Think Blair Waldorf, but much more frizzy, and with a lot less headbands. And I was happy that way. I’ll admit, I judged girls with bleached locks, my younger sister included. I believed that I was smarter, more mature, and more capable because my hair was a darker shade. I assumed people would take me more seriously. I had a lot of fun and dated a lot of people during my brunette years, but I always had a small, strange feeling that something was missing. I remember the first time I brought up the idea of changing my hair color to my college best friend, to which he replied, “Blondes are always hot, but I’m not sure you could pull off the platinum look.” *eye roll* Even so, eight months later, here I am.
To be honest, I hate the fact that the color of my hair has had a major impact on my life, but it has. Girls’ night at the bar has forever been changed for me. Gone are the days of watching my friends get hit on while I sit awkwardly to the side and pay for my own drinks. I can look around any room and see 3 or 4 men trying to make eye contact with me. Guys definitely pay more attention, but that’s not the only place I now stand out. I constantly notice other women watching me, asking me where I get my hair done, or even where I got my outfit. Compliments, compliments, compliments. I even get called “Barbie” from time to time. I’m still not sure if that’s meant as a compliment or an insult, and I’m kind of scared to ask.
I’m not writing this to say every girl should stop what she’s doing and start putting bleach on her head. Being a blonde is a great responsibility that comes with a lot of power and can really cause problems for someone who is not up to the task. To quote the original blonde goddess, Elle Woods, “I’m not sure you could handle it.” However, being someone who has been both brunette and blonde during the span of her early twenties, I’m here to answer the age-old question. Yes, blondes DO have more fun. I’m ready for my Victoria’s Secret Bombshell ad any day now. .