Uncut

It has come to my attention that my blog is a bit of a cynical rant, but also a humorous and an entertaining one. In that same progression I shall continue with my latest tirade on my distaste for blondes. This is not just a preference, I do not see blonde as a hair color, to me blonde represents the vapid false perfection, the unoriginality of culture. This was not always the case, it started innocently off innocently enough I suppose, but somewhere along the line being blonde became trademarked as the ideal we know today. I mostly blame two people for this, Barbie and Marilyn Monroe.

I suppose Barbie is not a person really, I can’t hold her accountable for all her cheap plastic anatomically incorrect self has done, but you understand the idea she stimulates. Barbie is supposed perfection, beauty, an impossible waistline and classically blonde hair. Her unattainable image has been cause to the self loathing of many, striving to attain a completely unrealistic look. Personally I do not understand why anyone would want to look like someone with no orifices or nipples, but maybe that’s just me.

The second guilty party is far more easily pinned with characterizing the essence of blondness, and that is Marilyn Monroe or Norma Jean the name she was born with. Another thing Marilyn Monroe was born with was brown hair. Far before was the icon of glamour and luxury for being a blonde bombshell, she was a fairly ordinary looking girl. Apparently she did not have very much self confidence to embrace either her real name or natural color as a young actress, abandoning both in hopes to be that Barbie image of beauty. She would then continue to detriment her birth given hair color by branding blondes as the variety of women gentlemen prefer, leading to the common consensus that blondes have more fun and other garbage like that.

But did Marilyn Monroe really have more fun? Did she? the girl overdosed and killed herself, I’m pretty sure little brunette Norma Jean would not have. But people forget such insignificant details and only see the glamour and poise of those like Marilyn Monroe, they want to emulate what gentlemen supposedly prefer, be blonde, bleach themselves of originality.

I have a friend, a natural brunette, but she religiously dyes her hair a vibrant red, and to be honest it looks fabulous. She feels confident in turning heads, attracting attention due to her hair, being something different. However she becomes infuriated if anyone else becomes a redhead as it takes away from her ability to stand out. If everyone dyes their hair one color, all wishing to attain a set idea of individual attention and beauty, the true individuality is taken from it. The hair color is no longer then just a hair color but an idea, a stereotype, a being of its own. The connotation of a mass stereotype leads to both positive and negative ideas about everyone who dawns that hair color. For example that blondes are more sexy while also less intelligent. 

I firmly believe that to be blonde, especially unnaturally blonde is to convey a certain message different than most other hair colors. Take for example the horrendous band to come out of Long Island, Stereo Skyline. A band of males (if you can really call them that) who are all completely blonde and purposely so. It is a part of their assigned image, they are marketed and expressly forbidden to stray from the idea of blondeness. Unsurprisingly their music is just as unoriginal as their hair color. 

It would be pretty inconceivable to imagine a band required to be brunette, to be blonde is a kind of expected standard, a preordained mentality we are all meant to find undoubtedly attractive. I however most certainly do not. I never have, save for maybe my first naive crushes on celebrities like Jonathan Taylor Thomas and Devon Sawa. But after I matured, and perhaps unconsciously realized all the gripes I have stated above, my taste changed to the darker variety, my idea of beauty has never been the one popular culture deemed most attractive.

I hope I have not badly offended any blondes who may be reading this, just spewing the frequent ramblings of my busy mind.