#ELLE DRIVER COSTUME BRUNETTE FULL#
In the '80s, she'd L'Oréal the full spectrum of red and yellow, from copper to bronze to gold to platinum and back again, the long, feathered, perfect hair that she spent hours on daily accepting every whim. 5, who once told me she'd commit suicide when her looks went. My mother is the kind of woman who wears lipstick to the pool, who suffocated the one yoga class I took her to in Chanel No. I've also rarely seen my mother without makeup, perhaps only when I've glimpsed her fresh out of a shower. To this day I've seen my mother's natural hair color only in old photos apparently it was once jet-black like mine. Related: Four Insiders Discuss the Dark Side of the White Blonde Trend I never dared to touch blond's pageant-queen mainstream. That brunette meant the smarty-pants, the outcast, the weirdo, the rebel. With my mustache, unruly eyebrows, and beanpole physique, I tried to convince myself I was keeping it real. PJ Harvey and Lisa Bonet were my only brunette iconoclast icons of sexiness. The first feminine icon I aspired to realistically look like was Dil of The Crying Game, a wiry, scrawny, dark-haired It Girl who-um, spoiler-was really a man. In the '90s, I lusted after a different type of iconic blond-the Kurt-and-Courtney white-hot grunge blond Kat Bjelland's Babes in Toyland wackadoodle baby-doll blond Kim Gordon's effortless X-girl introvert blond-but none of these were quite me either. But when I'd pose with a black crayon dangling from my lips, draped in my aunt's furs, tangled in costume jewelry, I always knew I was playing someone I was not.īy my teenage years, I'd given up starlet drag. I'd take Marilyn Monroe, Jayne Mansfield, Jean Harlow, and Betty Grable over sitcom ingenues and Tiger Beat fare any day. Old-movie classics were how this Iranian-American immigrant learned English-my early diary entries are full of mid-Atlantic-accented leading-lady coos like "Ain't life grand!" and "Golly!" Between AMC and the wonderful local indie video store in the greater Los Angeles enclave of South Pasadena, California, where I grew up, my psyche was firmly molded by eras past. As long as I can remember, I've had a sick fascination with American blonds.
0 kommentar(er)
