To be blonde in a world of prejudices, that is to say how to face the stiff framework of blondes as brainless strumps whom, as per a famous movie, ‘men prefer but don’t marry’ and other women emulate .. at the hairdresser’s. Of course I am sensitive to the matter and, except those international cinema stars whose label of giddy sensuality has always been their hair – first of all the goddess Marylin who in fact was born brunette, there are the common people who act like a reminder, especially when, driven by affection, they use ‘blonde’ to call me as if it was my name, like a proper name. And I wish to remember the amazing BARBIE, with which I used to play in the eighties and nineties thanks to Mattel: perfect bodies, half open lips – a deeply criticized aspect, blue eyes (don’t you wanna be a blonde with light eyes? if anything, green eyes, like those of Ursula Andress: incidentally the Bond girl ‘par excellence’) and long wavy blonde hair(!). The cartoons and the unforgettable Walt Disney movies gave us as a present the timeless image of good and innocent blondes – one among the many others: Cinderella, even loved by the rich handsome powerful prince of the realm. One such fairytail! And then countless films willing to affirm or at least to show how tough a blonde can be (Working girl) or how smart she is in being distracting and positive for those who surround her (Legally blonde) or how sensual she is in an extremely amusing way and just apparently dummy (Gentlemen prefer blondes) or how sometimes she is more refined than the brunette in the tv-cinema imagination (Closer). And I could go on with other endless examples dictated only by light-colored hair, eyes, skin. Even very young children are more attracted to blondes, perhaps for being comforting. And in a many years ago audition, I was told they were looking for a brunette with strong features for an immediate idea of a ruthless female manager, whilst I was, they said, a Botticelli type (no less!?!) and represented the opposite. Recently, someone smiled at me while I was with my car at a selfservice for buying some fuel and asked if I was able to do it: my impression is that if I was a brunette with a resolute stare he would not even dare to say so. To be blonde is a way of being that meets some difficulties, but the pride is high and the matter long, therefore to be continued!
A few ideas of some related books: