Thursday, November 20, 2008
Ugly "betty"
Since I went brunette last week, I've gotten a surprisingly large number of queries about whether or not I dyed the "hair down there" to match the curtains. This served to remind me how ignorant many people are on the topic of girls' pubes. Back when I was blonde, I got a lot of questions about this from my paramours, especially those of the male variety. This was probably because a lot of people didn't realize that my blonde hair color was from a bottle too.
Granted, I am a natural blonde, and when I was a little kid, I looked like the poster child for the Hitler Youth. However, once I hit puberty, my hair started to get darker. I was tired of being what my mother calls a "dishwater blonde" and I had a very unfortunate admiration for Courtney Love's personal style, so at 16 I bought a box of Clairol Maxi-Blonde and peroxided it so hard my hair was probably emitting free radicals. Since that day, I'd been coloring it various brighter shades of blonde until I decided to get down with brown for my thirties, but my pubes have always been the same color of light brown. Despite the carpet always being darker than the drapes, I've never, EVER taken my L'Oreal anywhere near my southerly hedgerows, nor considered it.
I've hooked up with blond chicks and dudes and I have yet to see a "natural blonde" in that sense. In my experience, all people with naturally blonde hair of varying degrees have light to medium brown crotch curls, and thus I've never felt the need to match since it's hardly going to be shocking if my twat topiary isn't the exact same color as the hair on my head. It's not like the fact that my hair color isn't natural is some big secret, and besides, coloring hair is a real pain in the ass. It damages the fuck out of it, and you have to constantly maintain your roots. The last thing I need is to start the same drama with my short and curlies.
Sadly, now there's a pube dye being marketed in drugstores nationwide, and now I feel there is added pressure to get all matchy-matchy. In fact, a month or two ago, I was discussing the general issue regarding becoming a "natural" blonde upstairs and down with my fellow dye-assisted natural blonde ElCyd and we both expressed our disdain and suspicion about such a product.
Razzy: when i get a hot job soon
Razzy: i'm going to hit the salon
Razzy: for riz
ElCyd: fo sho
Razzy: dyeing is such a hassle
Razzy: and as much as i like the PWT aesthetic
ElCyd: it's worth it to not have my arms hurt for a day afterwards
Razzy: truly
Razzy: plus it's nice to have it look sorta "natural"
Razzy: because people who aren't blonde
Razzy: don't realize that it's fake
Razzy: because we are "natural" blondes
Razzy: although there's been more than one retard who got my pants off and was like, "wait, you're a brunette?"
Razzy: and i'm like, "what?"
Razzy: and they're all, "the carpet doesn't match the drapes"
ElCyd: zomg
ElCyd: so they've clearly never boned a blonde
Razzy: i'm like "NO SHIT, loser. there are no blondes who have platinum pubes"
Razzy: have you seen this pube dye they're selling now?
ElCyd: yes
ElCyd: because THAT is what need
ElCyd: to deal with more than the hair on my head
Razzy: http://www.bettybeauty.com/
Razzy: "betty"
Razzy: i'm like, bitch, look at my eyebrows! look at the hair on my arms and legs! it's blonde, loser
Razzy: pubes are always brown
ElCyd: except for the firecrotches
ElCyd: their shit is RED
ElCyd: ew
Razzy: i know
Razzy: and it's TRUE too
Razzy: i've f'd a couple and their shit was totally red
ElCyd: oh christ
ElCyd: p.s.
ElCyd: why would anyone want blue pubes
ElCyd: srsly
Razzy: oh i KNOW
Razzy: hipsters would, probs
Razzy: that's so dumb
ElCyd: fucking stupid
ElCyd: i hate hipsters
Razzy: i mean if i saw that on someone
Razzy: i would laugh in their face
Razzy: and call them stupid
ElCyd:i mean
ElCyd: that takes some initiative
ElCyd: which means you are completely lame
Razzy: who is like "you know what would be fun? PINK PUBES"
ElCyd: gezus
ElCyd:right?
Razzy: dude what about THIS?
Razzy: http://www.bettybeauty.com/charmcils.php
ElCyd: dude
ElCyd: don't even get me started
Razzy: like make a fucking dollar sign on your "betty"?
Razzy: (which is the stupidest term ever for PUBES)
ElCyd: i think i saw a real sex once that had some chick getting her pubes dyed pink wtih a stencil
ElCyd: from like, a million years ago
ElCyd: oh, did you see the thongs that say "my betty is ready"?
ElCyd: lame
Razzy: that is so dumb
Razzy: those thongs are pricey
Razzy: although pube dye is nothing in comparison to bad woman ideas when you consider the services offered by c'elle: www.celle.com
Razzy: PERIOD STEM CELLS
ElCyd: omg
And I'll stop there, because I don't think anyone needs a digression into the world of companies specializing in cryopreserving a girl's "monthly miracle." In any event, rest assured, there will be no pubic hair matching going on around my vagina anytime soon, much less any flamboyant colors or peace sign designs painted onto my racing stripe. Sorry to disappoint those proponents of color matching, but to be perfectly honest, it's not like anyone believes I'm a natural brunette anyway. Besides, in my experience nobody has particularly cared what my rug matched before they started munching it, and until that happens, there will be no Betty on my pubes.
Labels: bleach blonde, ElCyd, pro-apocalyptic zeitgeist, sex
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Braids by Sisqo
Robert Sylvester Kelly AKA R. Kelly AKA the R-uh/Pied Piper/King of R&B AKA the World's Greatest has released a new single called "Hair Braider,"(go listen to it) and it should go without saying that I'm totally enamored with it. Kells has managed to apply his musical alchemy to a relatively leaden topic (coiffure and personal grooming) and transmute it into pure 24 karat gold. To celebrate this achievement, Kells went ahead and applied the Midas touch to his thematically apropos braids:
I'm not really sure how much I can tolerate this matching lamé coat-and-chunky braids combo. If Kells is, as the lyrics to "Hair Braider" suggest, indeed "doing (his) hair braider," he must not be doing a very good job to deserve this style. He looks like some kind of space age Pollyanna meets Liberace. Clearly he's not tipping her enough for the braiding/stripping services. Then again, perhaps coming out of the "booty shop" with this style is the peril of multitasking dirty sex and hairdressing in the middle of the night while really, really stoned. The point is that with this hair, R. Kelly should be a good foot shorter and running around Miami singing about chicks with "dumps like a truck" and his desire to catch a stray glimpse of that thong-tha-thong-thong-thong.
His hair braider apparently is proficient at many styles, from twist-ups to extensions, and he has many styles when it comes to sex positions, but I doubt both of their resumes when I look at R. Kelly's golden tresses. I'm not feeling R. Kelly the dandy metallic bleached blonde. It's time to go back to the zigzag braids that look like spaghetti in your natural black color, Kells.
His hair braider apparently is proficient at many styles, from twist-ups to extensions, and he has many styles when it comes to sex positions, but I doubt both of their resumes when I look at R. Kelly's golden tresses. I'm not feeling R. Kelly the dandy metallic bleached blonde. It's time to go back to the zigzag braids that look like spaghetti in your natural black color, Kells.
Labels: bleach blonde, hot dudes, I LOVE IT, intentional buffoonery, overcompensation, Robert Sylvester Kelly
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Kiss my brass
I've gotten a few comments here and there about the color of my hair. Specifically, several astute readers have pointed out that my color, L'Oreal Feria Pure Diamond Extra Light Natural Blonde, isn't exactly "natural" and sometimes has a brassy tone. I am well aware of this, although I don't really mind it. "Brassy" also means ballsy, brazen, saucy, and loud, attributes which certainly apply to me. I ldefinitely think of myself as a brassy broad. Also, Tonya Harding was a pretty brassy bitch, being PWT from the P-N-Dub and all, and there's no shame in channeling a bit of her scrappy, cheating spirit by having a similar hair color:
I do, however, draw the line at rocking the deflating bangs and partially grown-out Fantastic Sam's spiral perm. Also, I certainly wouldn't be smiling if I had whatever the hell is going on with her teeth. Anyway, my defense of brassiness and my conflicted feelings about Ms. Harding aside, I don't really have a choice about the whole hair color situation. Getting your hair professionally colored in New York City is pricey, and in order to afford it, I'd have to give up drinking. I am a dedicated alcoholic, and not about to let vanity get in the way of my quest to destroy my liver, so that is not an option. Therefore, I see myself in fucking Feria.
I have naturally blonde hair, but it's what my mom calls "dishwater" blonde. I used to have really light, almost white blonde hair when I was a small child, but as I got older, it got darker. I think it's really boring and blah, so I hit the bottle to brighten it up. Big deal. Most blondes don't sport their natural color, so it's not like I'm the only bitch in the room with a bleach job.
Tonight J-Sexy is having a party, and while the prospects of getting laid there are slim (I'm so NOT trying to bang 99% of my fellow science nerds...no offense, grad school guys), there are some people that J-Sexy knows from elsewhere attending. Therefore, on the off chance that there is some cute random single Jamaican boozing it up at J-Sexy's tonight, I decided to touch up my roots this morning while I was catching reruns of "90210" on SoapNet.
As I was pulling on my vinyl gloves and mixing up the chemicals in my bathroom, I noticed that the Feria box was lauding their improved conditioner formula. The concerned readers who have expressed dismay or displeasure regarding my hair color can rest easy now, because the conditioner is now a special formula for blondes called ANTI-BRASS. Presumably the use of this conditioner will reduce the color-treated look of my hair and make it seem more natural. I don't see how conditioner, which is basically grease you put on your hair AFTER you wash out the actual dye, will accomplish this, but it's supposedly "shimmer enhancing" and claims that it will "bring out multi-faceted shine in my hair." So the next time I put up a picture of myself and people are like, "Your hair looks like a yellow crayon" or "Quit dyeing your hair!", instead you can tell me how natural, shimmering, and multi-faceted it looks. And regardless of how my hair actually looks, I'll probably respond brassily.
I do, however, draw the line at rocking the deflating bangs and partially grown-out Fantastic Sam's spiral perm. Also, I certainly wouldn't be smiling if I had whatever the hell is going on with her teeth. Anyway, my defense of brassiness and my conflicted feelings about Ms. Harding aside, I don't really have a choice about the whole hair color situation. Getting your hair professionally colored in New York City is pricey, and in order to afford it, I'd have to give up drinking. I am a dedicated alcoholic, and not about to let vanity get in the way of my quest to destroy my liver, so that is not an option. Therefore, I see myself in fucking Feria.
I have naturally blonde hair, but it's what my mom calls "dishwater" blonde. I used to have really light, almost white blonde hair when I was a small child, but as I got older, it got darker. I think it's really boring and blah, so I hit the bottle to brighten it up. Big deal. Most blondes don't sport their natural color, so it's not like I'm the only bitch in the room with a bleach job.
Tonight J-Sexy is having a party, and while the prospects of getting laid there are slim (I'm so NOT trying to bang 99% of my fellow science nerds...no offense, grad school guys), there are some people that J-Sexy knows from elsewhere attending. Therefore, on the off chance that there is some cute random single Jamaican boozing it up at J-Sexy's tonight, I decided to touch up my roots this morning while I was catching reruns of "90210" on SoapNet.
As I was pulling on my vinyl gloves and mixing up the chemicals in my bathroom, I noticed that the Feria box was lauding their improved conditioner formula. The concerned readers who have expressed dismay or displeasure regarding my hair color can rest easy now, because the conditioner is now a special formula for blondes called ANTI-BRASS. Presumably the use of this conditioner will reduce the color-treated look of my hair and make it seem more natural. I don't see how conditioner, which is basically grease you put on your hair AFTER you wash out the actual dye, will accomplish this, but it's supposedly "shimmer enhancing" and claims that it will "bring out multi-faceted shine in my hair." So the next time I put up a picture of myself and people are like, "Your hair looks like a yellow crayon" or "Quit dyeing your hair!", instead you can tell me how natural, shimmering, and multi-faceted it looks. And regardless of how my hair actually looks, I'll probably respond brassily.
Labels: bleach blonde, celebrities, P-N-Dub, PWT, Razzification, Tonya Harding, vanity
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