You may be aware of the recent car pileup where a poor lady scraped her very expensive mobile metal (car) against an equally expensive derby of dashing cars — Ferrari, Aston Martin, Mercedes, Porsche — and all that was really cited, apart from the cost of repairs, was the fact that she was a blonde!
The very word “blonde” has its own inherent implications. It suggests a pre-requisite lowering of expectations in order to accommodate for the bizarrely unexpected. Anybody else causing car damage almost equalling the defence budget of a small nation would be publicly stoned. When a blonde does it, all we can think of is just how fittingly pre-emptive it all appears. Nobody has stepped forth to analyse if something was wrong with the car she was driving, circumstances under which this happened etc. The only clear highlights have been the highlights in her hair!
Blondes don’t like being referred to as blondes as they say it makes light of their intelligence. Yet, other women exhibit a jealousy towards them. Somewhere they maybe right. Would this have happened if the driver had been a brunette? And if the person were to have been a man, then he’d already be taken into custody on account of being a perpetrator, guilty of plotting a heinous crime against society
at large!
And yet a blonde gets away with international headlines. Blonde or not — I am but a passive observer of the fairer sex. They interest me. But I can’t help repress an impish smile as I realise that somewhere the smallest unintentional transgression by one inconspicuous lady has renewably justified all the blonde jokes we men have cracked ever since the dawn of mankind!
The writer is a lover of women and also a sommelier