Let’s just get it out there: I’m blonde. No, I am not platinum blonde, nor do I have any aspirations to bleach all existing color out of my hair. But yes, I am a blonde American woman, and yes I am a globetrotter. Does this result in me being a walking stereotype? Absolutely. A friend of mine speechlessly watched in disgust a few months back at the men who confronted me during a professional-networking event as if I were the town idiot. This event was at a very chic venue in Paris, and a man actually busted out a fake fifty Euro bill which bore a picture of Sarkozy, and asked me if I knew who he was. So before I dive too far into this blog, I’d like to clarify something.
I am not out to deny that the blonde stereotype exists for a reason. However, I’m not a gum-snapping, hair-twirling, over-tanned, fake-nailed bimbo who doesn’t know if Europe is a country or a continent-so I’d like the world to stop trying to cram me into that category based on nothing more than my looks. I realize that everyone has got a stereotype haunting them in one way or another, but let me break down the blonde one for you, just to reiterate what some of us are dealing with:
Somehow being blonde sends a message to men in public that you want nothing more than to pleasure them for hours on end. There’s this notion that being this stranger’s own personal sex-toy is your greatest life ambition. Trust me, I’ve had several completely inappropriate propositions from men who I hadn’t even noticed but evidently they spotted the hair a mile away. Flattering.
Being blonde sends an equally disturbing message to women in public that you are on the hunt for their man. Theirs. That you want nothing more than to steal whatever mess they come home to, just so that you can have him all to yourself. Sigh. As if there isn’t enough problems with love and dating that I now want to take on stealing another woman’s undoubtedly flawed boyfriend/husband.
In addition to being seen as sexual predators, we blondes are also viewed as the least intelligent creature in the public setting, including whatever germs and bacteria have gathered for their family reunion on the urinal cakes. I cannot count the amount of times I have gotten in a conversation at a bar or a party with a man who at some point says to me ‘wow, you are really smart-who would have guessed?’. Again with the charm.
So there it is, that’s what I’m up against. I’ve got friends from all cultures and races who are up against their own stereotypes. It’s hilarious to compare and swap stories of the various incidents in which we all find ourselves. All I can say is yes, I am a natural blonde American-and yes, I have a brain.