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Allison Larkin

Internationally Best-Selling Author

You are here: Home / life / I just like being blonde

I just like being blonde

June 25, 2009 Filed Under: life

I’m not a very girly girl. I don’t tend to leave the house without a little eyeliner and mascara, but that’s pretty much where it stops. I loathe shopping. I never get my nails done. And for several years getting a haircut meant holding my hair behind my back and lopping the ends off with a pair of kitchen scissors (it was really long and curly and didn’t much matter if it was a little uneven). I’m kind of low-maintenance, (although, if I’m being brutally honest, I’m probably “the worst kind.” )

I’ve celebrated this level of not doing things for me like it’s something honorable. Like not taking time for myself or affording myself little luxuries was some sort of badge I should wear proudly. I’m frugal. I’m noble. I’m hard working and no-frills and I don’t need all that silly foofaraw (how awesome is that word?). I am hard on myself, and I am my own worst critic. But I’m starting to realize the importance of being nice to myself and I’m starting to loosen my grip.

When I decided, recklessly, to go blonde back in November, it was totally out of character. I did it, telling myself It’s only hair and thinking I’d go back to brown as soon as my roots started showing. But I kept it up, going a little darker, but not back to brown. I made up weird excuses for it in my head, like I’ll see so-and-so in a month and she hasn’t seen me as a blonde and she’ll get a kick out of it, or, I should stay blonde for summer because brown dye will fade in the sun anyway.

But two weeks ago when I made an appointment to get my hair done, I had decided enough was enough. I was set to go back to brown. I asked my hairdresser what she thought, and she said, “You know, I like you blonde. It works with your skin tone.” And even though I know she stands to make more money keeping me blonde, it was like what she said gave me permission to like it. “I like me blonde too,” I said, and saying it out loud, as silly as it sounds, was a turning point for me.

I like being blonde. I like the way it works with my skin tone, and more importantly, I like the way it forces me to take care of me. Those roots start showing and eventually, they bug me enough to drag myself in to the salon. My amazing hairdresser and I have a great chat while she works her magic, the ladies at the front counter ooh and ah over how great my hair looks. I leave feeling better, and for the next two or three months, I smile when I catch my reflection in the mirror.

There is something restorative about a great haircut, one that you didn’t give yourself with a pair of kitchen scissors. There is something nice about having confidence in your appearance. I’ve had such a hard time admitting it, because it flies in the face of that weird puritanical pride I’ve been clinging to, but here it is: I am proudly, and unabashedly blonde. And I think I will be for awhile.

6 Comments

Comments

  1. Joan says

    June 25, 2009 at 5:33 pm

    And think how awesome your jacket photo will be!
    Joan

    Reply
  2. TMC says

    June 26, 2009 at 1:29 pm

    Adorable!

    Reply
  3. Courtney says

    June 26, 2009 at 4:36 pm

    I loooove your hair color! You’re right, it does work with your skin tone.

    I also forego the girly stuff most of the time, but I think that makes us appreciate the little treats we give ourselves. A little foofaraw (GREAT word!) is nice in moderation.

    Reply
  4. WendyCinNYC says

    June 30, 2009 at 3:49 pm

    It totally suits you. Very nice!

    Reply
  5. equa yona(Big Bear) says

    July 4, 2009 at 3:28 am

    I could say “how cute” or I could tease you. But i choose to tell the truth- you look GREAT!

    Reply
  6. Robj98168 says

    July 6, 2009 at 3:12 am

    LOL- I think you look wonderful as a blonde- makes me wish I had hair. Between you and I – I get an occasional pedicure – for medicinal purposes. LOL Diabetics have notoriously bad feet so I go in every once in awhile.

    Reply

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Okay, fine. Her jacket is reversible and we kinda Okay, fine. Her jacket is reversible and we kinda match. I admit it. Alright? We all knew this was coming. None of this should be a surprise to any of us. #dailyroxydog #huskychihuahua #dogjacket #peoplewhomatchtheirdogs
Just a dog in a puffy jacket that matches her lawn Just a dog in a puffy jacket that matches her lawn chair. And she likes it! #dailyroxydog #chihuahuamix #ilovemydog
We are in the habit of starting and ending our day We are in the habit of starting and ending our days side by side in our lawn chairs, while the light rises or dims. It’s still chilly at the outer edges of the day. Sometimes Roxy shivers. I bought her a sweater, but she won’t wear it. Sometimes I try to wrap her in my jacket, but she’s not having that either, so I throw her ball and try to get her run and then she comes back to her chair, warm for a little longer. #dailyroxydog #huskychihuahua #dogssittinginchairs
“I got a secret I should tell. I’m going up to “I got a secret I should tell. I’m going up to heaven in a split pea shell.” ~ @petermulvey43 Words Too Small to Say
Happy as a dog in a freshly dug nap hole. #dailyro Happy as a dog in a freshly dug nap hole. #dailyroxydog #huskymixesofinstagram
I saw this little dresser at my favorite magic ant I saw this little dresser at my favorite magic antique store sometime in November and didn’t buy it. But then, of course, I kept thinking about her. She’s the perfect size for my office, and I found those drawer pulls hilarious. When I finally went back in December, I told myself I was shopping for wall art, because I assumed she would be gone. But she was right where I’d seen her last: balanced on another dresser with boxes of old picture frames and tchotchkes piled on top (the true mark of a magic antique store). I didn’t even realize she had a towel rack — that she was a wash stand, not a dresser — until I asked about the price, said I’d take her, and my favorite magic antique store person asked if we needed to unscrew the towel rack to fit her in my car. I suspect this little sweetie is not from the days of necessary wash stands so much as from a country kitchen in the 80s. She was in rough shape, and not made from wood worth stripping and re-staining, but her price reflected that. I had to disassemble that door and put it back together, but I’d been in the market for some experience working with old furniture, and she made me feel brave about trying. I thought about painting her something more neutral, but I’m so glad I didn’t. She deserves to be pink. She’s not perfectly painted and needs a few touch ups. I learned some things about chalk paint and finishes. The drawers stick a bit. Eventually, I’d like to line them with fabric and when I do, I might plane the edges to smooth things out. But goodness, I love her in a way that I wouldn’t if I hadn’t spent time cleaning away her cobwebs and scrubbing the grime from her hilarious drawer pulls. She’s also become a little shrine for the book I’m working on, which makes me love her even more. I’ve always been a person who sees some soul in certain things, and I’m learning to cherish that idiosyncrasy, because there’s so much joy to be found in a brave little toaster or an underdog wash stand. We’re not here in the world for all that long. We may as well love some bright little things. #furnituremakeover
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