It's Christmas week! Time for a fun post. How many people will be going to movies over the holidays? Maybe even something by Disney? Watch out for those dark haired babes...
Here it is, the fifty-something anniversary
of the birth of the Barbie doll, and I’m uncomfortable.
Coincidentally, it is also the fifty-something anniversary of me, and
I’ve got to ask: is Barbie having more fun than I am? Am I missing something by not being blond?
Okay, okay, so this smacks of
insecurity. But who wouldn’t be
insecure, being brunette these days? Did
the Prince go looking for a dark-haired Sleeping Beauty? Did Charming find a gorgeous black-haired
scullery maid at the end of the glass slipper?
Face it, scullery types: if
you’re brunette, you’re going to have to find your own prince.
I blame it on Barbie. Three quatrillion blond Barbies with bunny
bodies since 1959, and no brunette bimbo in sight. It’s enough to make you go for botox.
So what is it about us dark-haired
babes? Why are we constantly being
portrayed as witches in Hollywood? In
Westerns, you can tell the bad guys from the good guys by their black
hats. In Disney, you can tell the bad
girls by their dark hair.
It’s not only Disney. The Networks are no better. Remember Dynasty? Sweet Linda Evans, with her blond bob. And then there was scheming Joan Collins…
Witchy women, evil women – all of them
brunette, you can bet your peroxide.
It’s a fact; a witchy brunette nearly butchered 101 darling Dalmatians
for their spotted fur. And in The Wizard
of OZ, Glinda the good witch was blondie-blond.
The nasty old Witch of the West was as brunette as they come.
That’s us – nasty. And no wonder, the way we are always
portrayed.
What can you expect, when the best role
model we-of-dark-tresses had as young kids was Natasha Fatale (“Whatever you
think, Darlink”) of Boris and Natasha fame on Bullwinkle. Good Ole Bullwinkle. I used to imagine he had a raging animal
crush on the sexy, dark-haired Natasha. And who wouldn’t? Sexy and savvy. She was my role model. It’s taken me years to kick the “Darlink” habit
and start pronouncing Gs.
Things got better when Morticia came
along. Now, she was a classy role
model. Granted, my parents got a bit
upset when I dyed my confirmation dress black and started writing poetry about
graveyards. But more than one male (prince or frog) has mentioned to me that
Caroline Jones was the object of many adolescent daydreams.
Well, at least they call us sexy. In fact, “sultry” was the word Commander
Riker used in a Next Generation episode on the holodeck. “Give me sultry,” he said, and when a blonde
vision popped up in the New Orleans jazz bar, “No, she’s got to be brunette.”
Thank you, Commander Riker!
Fast forward to SHERLOCK with Benedict
Cumberbatch in the lead role. A man who has no interest in women. Except for one: THE Woman. Irene Adler.
In the books by Arthur Conan Doyle, she may have been blond. In the television show, she is a brunette
siren. And Nemesis for poor Sherlock.
So far we can chalk up nasty, sexy, sultry
and bad. Clever but cruel. Usually foreign and sneaky. Throw in green eyes, and you’ve got the
classic Hollywood Evil Woman.
Evil, evil, evil.
So be a little careful before you start to
criticize this column. I might put a hex
on you.
Melodie
Campbell writes funny books, like the award-winning mob Goddaughter series,
starting with The Goddaughter. She is a
natural brunette, so I suggest you buy them.
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