|Blazer: Gap; Shirt, Skirt and Shoes: JCrew; Belt: Ann Taylor; Purse: Gucci; Watch: Juicy Couture|
I've realized some things about myself; I'm fickle. I kinda change my mind. And I get bored easily. I said I wouldn't do it again in this post, but I did. I went blonde.
A couple days ago, I sat in the chair at Zolton's Salon, as Alayna foiled my hair. We talked for a long time. Then it was quiet. At one point we laughed because I mentioned how I forgot what a process being blonde is. Two and a half hours later, she rinsed the bleach, toner and familiar look from my hair. And as I caught the very first glimpse of my "new" hair, I suddenly felt shocked. (Not in a bad way Alayna, if you're reading this.) The thing is, I no longer identified myself as a blonde. Even though the majority of my life, that was my hair color identity. Blonde was my natural color by birth. When I hit thirteen, I put lemon in my hair and laid in the sun, hoping for sun kissed highlights. During my college years, I frequented the salon
obsessively often, to brighten my mane. I was blonde.
Three years ago, I changed my life. I changed my marital status. And, I changed my hair. I felt as though I was growing up and no longer felt the desire, or the chase, of being blonde. I was, and I am, happy being more natural. Natural is less maintenance, and allows yourself to shine through. For the first time in my life, I no longer viewed myself as blonde.
So why did I do it? Why did I go back to what I really call the dark side? Well, refer back to my first few sentences of this post. Even though I still don't identify as a blonde, I still like to surprise myself. I'm not used to my new look yet, but 'll embrace it. Because no matter what they say - blondes have more fun, brunettes are smarter, etc. etc., hair color doesn't change the heart.