My fixation with blonde began with my mum. She had Targaryen sheets of icy white hair which would drape over her shoulders and she’d pair it with the very of-the-moment frosted blue eyeshadow. The finished look was very striking and I remember my young mind thinking my own brown lengths would never be quite as arresting, quite as much of a statement. This sense of blonde being something to be coveted was only compounded by my harbouring a fascination with Brigitte Bardot, Grace Kelly and Debbie Harry.
I know this might read as insane. What about Audrey Hepburn’s beauty, complete with dark head of hair, I hear you cry. Or Ava Gardner? She was astonishing to behold. Liz Taylor, etc. But, no, I just wanted to be blonde, and so as soon as I was allowed to colour my hair, I embarked on a mission to achieve flaxen lengths.
