The New Rules for Blondes (20 page)

When I was fifteen, if you had told me that someday one of my best friends would be a sporty brunette Warrior from Wayland, I would have told you that you have quite an imagination. But Leah has taught me so much about standup and self-love that I hate to imagine what my life would be like if I had never met her. I’m so glad I jumped at the chance to befriend a brunette. A brunette from my rival hometown, no less!

FAQs with Selena

How should one answer the question “Do you color your hair?”

Ah, the inevitable, nagging existential query of blondeness. Here’s the least helpful answer ever: Respond with whatever you are comfortable with. I know—I’m the worst! What am I, a jag friend whose relationship “advice” is the bullshit line that you should just “be yourself”? Fuck that! If I were myself when meeting guys, I’d fart and let my roots grow out—both are
bad news
. But back to the question at hand. The correct answer to this question depends on your personal preference as far as candor. There are two options when answering this type of question: You can use the playfully evasive line “Wouldn’t you like to know?” paired with a mischievous hair toss maneuver. Or you can actually answer the question and wave your flag of fake blondeness (or “blondeness with assistance”) proudly. I usually respond by saying, “I was born blonde, so technically it’s natural . . . but now I give it a little help.” Nobody needs to know that “a little help” is code for “I spend three hours and hundreds of dollars one Saturday every two months to cover up the darker hair that somehow springs from my head. This is my happiness—don’t judge.” Use the response that works for you. If you’re more comfortable avoiding the question, then by all means avoid the question. You don’t owe this person anything, much less information about your sweet weave.

What do you say to nonblondes who tell you that they wish to color their hair and become blondes?

Some days I am tempted to shout, “Welcome to the light side!” and embrace these people. Other times I’d prefer to say, “We’re full up, thank you,” because I’ve got enough competition in this group already. More often than not, though, I welcome these newbie blondes and take them under my platinum wing. I’ll be honest with them, though—being blonde ain’t cheap. Check your finances and make sure that you can handle the demands of blondeness: the trips to the colorist, the gentle shampoo for colored hair,
103
the purple shampoo to prevent brassiness (if you’re into ashiness),
104
the conditioner to keep dyed hair from getting brittle,
105
and the ten-foot pole to fight off admirers.

How often do you wash your hair?

Truthfully, not much. Before you recoil and imagine the overpowering smell of body odor that must cloud around me like the
Peanuts
character Pig Pen, please note that I shower regularly. The bod gets washed—fear not. I just rock a shower cap to protect the delicate ecosystem that is my dope weave. The shower cap is key because you don’t want hair exposed to the humidity of the shower—it’s like a jungle in there
106
(quite literally). Just putting your hair in a bun or ponytail while you bathe upright isn’t enough—you gotta get that hair sealed up in the plastic protective covering of a shower cap. I live by a pretty strict hair-washing schedule, and I take many variables into consideration: what activities I am doing on a given day, who I might see, what the weather has been like and will be like today, what season it is, if wearing a hat is feasible and not too
Blossom
-y, and if I need a workout.

Depending on your hair type (thick vs. fine, curly vs. straight), you might require a daily shampoo and infrequent hair-washing might not be the right choice for you. Or you may be a good candidate for my every-couple-of-days hair-washing schedule. I have fine hair but a lot of it, and my hair doesn’t get especially greasy until day three or so. If you have thicker hair or hair that’s prone to become greasy more quickly, this schedule might not work for you. But if you have somewhat dry, fine hair, what I’m about to share might change your life forever. My personal day-by-day breakdown is this:

Day 1: Wash hair with a color-safe shampoo and a conditioner on the ends only. Apply product to damp hair (as mentioned in Chapter 7), then blow-dry with a paddle brush for most of your head and a smaller brush for trickier, face-framing sections. Wear hair straight and somewhat flat. Deal with flatness knowing that tomorrow, your weave will be big and bouncy.
107
Day 2 hair is worth the wait.

Day 2: Shower with a shower cap. Curl hair with curling iron. (I favor a 1.5-inch barrel iron for big, casual waves. Warning: 1.5-inch barrel curling irons are a bit harder to find than smaller curling irons.) After curling, brush out the curls a bit for shape, looseness. Spray a bit of hair spray over entire head to lock in style.

Day 3: Recurl if necessary. Wear tresses in a high bun or ponytail, or clipped back half up and half down. Hairstyles like half up, half down require some volume and texture at the roots (for a ’60s style that I favor), so days 2 and 3 are ideal for wearing that style.

Day 4: If you can handle it, rock a super-smooth ponytail on day 4.

Day 5: Shower and wash your hair, would ya?

What are your thoughts on color-enhancing products like Sun-In? Lemon juice? Beer? Cranberry juice? Coffee?

This question takes me back to eighth grade, when grunge music was big, flannel shirts were bigger, and all my friends were buzzing about DIY hair coloring courtesy of Sun-In, lemon juice, cranberry juice, coffee, and, yes, even beer. I think that I experimented with Sun-In during eighth and ninth grade, but I can’t exactly remember because nothing traumatic happened. That’s more than I can say for some brunette friends who ended up with freakish traffic-cone-colored hair thanks to Sun-In overdoses. Yikes. So my conclusion is that Sun-In can work if you are already blonde. For people with red or brown hair or darker, using Sun-In will be much like visiting Atlantic City: Be prepared to gamble and look like trash.

As for the “natural” hair color route of lemon juice (for blondes), cranberry juice (for redheads), and coffee (for brunettes), I think it’s worth testing out if you’re intrigued by it. These liquids aren’t permanent dyes, so you can’t do much damage, and experimentation is fun! And what about the beer in question? Supposedly, pouring beer on your hair will make it shiny. This idea was quite popular when my sister Laurel was in high school and she gave it a try. My parents were suspicious of the notion that shiny hair required their fifteen-year-old daughter to disappear upstairs with a can of beer and assumed that they were being had. Laurel insisted that she wasn’t simply trying to score alcohol and that beer was indeed supposed to make your hair luscious and shiny, and eventually they believed her. Well, they believed her enough to pour half of a can into Tupperware, and she took that to the bathroom, where she dumped it over her head in the shower. Was her hair any shinier? Not really. But it was a worthwhile exercise that opened a dialogue about adolescent hair experimentation between a teenage daughter and her concerned parents, so it was an important rite of passage.

Who is your favorite blonde icon?

Without a doubt, Miss Piggy. Her hair is always phenomenal, she has tons of fantastic outfits, and she doesn’t suffer fools gladly. Though I wish that she’d stop pining after the wimpy Kermit the Frog and move on. What about a date with Fozzie Bear? He’s a comedian—wouldn’t that be fun? Might get tiresome, though. What about Animal? I bet he has great connections to good parties and concerts.

Do you wear yellow?

Hell to the no! Because of my brassy, golden-blonde hair, a yellow outfit would make me resemble a banana. A fantastic banana who is spouting off witty quips and zinging them left, then zinging them right, but a banana nonetheless. Usually yellow clothing plus golden-blonde hair gives you a uniformity that is unflattering to all. I will admit to one blonde who looks fantastic in yellow, though: former Bachelorette Ali Fedotowsky. Initially, she was one of the many women on
The Bachelor
who fought for the affections of Jake, the uber-corny pilot. That season was known as
The Bachelor: On the Wings of Love
, and I wish I were making that up. Ali appeared in multiple different yellow dresses and looked stunning every time. So I’ll concede that some blondes can wear yellow, but not this blonde.

What are your thoughts on highlights?

My feelings about highlights are “Do it and do it and do it and do it . . . and do it again,” to quote that band of modern-day poets, the Black Eyed Peas. If you want some highlights, go for it! Highlights are a fun and easy way to play with color and dip your toe in another shade. In the fall and winter, red and brown lowlights are fun for a change of pace. Then, as soon as Punxsutawney Phil peeks his freaky groundhog head from his underground lair, start in on some champagne or goldenrod highlights.

How young is too young to start coloring hair?

Good question! I don’t advocate for any hair coloring among the
Toddlers & Tiaras
or
Honey Boo Boo
set. Kids should learn to appreciate their natural hair color, or at least make peace with it before they enter into a lifetime of changing it. The first fifteen years of life should be spent with whatever natural color you got. That undamaged, virgin hair will be beneficial in the long run. Then, once a kid is fifteen or sixteen, he or she can launch in on a lifetime of hair coloring.

When you go swimming in a pool, do you worry about your hair turning green?

Yes, and that is why I haven’t dunked my head underwater in a decade.

What’s your favorite breed of dog?

Golden retriever.

What’s your favorite type of brownie?

A blondie.

Conclusion

S
ometimes, blonde life can seem like a Sisyphean task of constantly visiting the colorist for touch-ups and enduring unending blonde jokes. It might seem as hard as sacking the quarterback during the fourth down, or dating a man with great hair, or befriending an intimidating brunette from your rival hometown, or lasting through a Guns N’ Roses cover band concert without being punched in the face. On bad days, being blonde even feels as difficult as doing your own highlights at home (something that isn’t just difficult—it’s damn near impossible to do well). But it’s also a glorious life, when you’re following in the well-worn path of legendary blondes such as Marilyn Monroe, Madonna, and Dolly Parton. Those blonde icons both fulfilled and flouted stereotypes, which is the best way to keep people on their toes. And you, dear reader, know how to keep people guessing because now you know thyself and you know how to work the weave and you aren’t afraid to run in heels and you’re smart as a whip because you’re a classy gal.

A brunette pal once taught me a brilliant saying: “I am who I am without apologies.” Without getting too touchy-feely or delving into “the last five minutes of a
Full House
episode” territory, the most important lesson here is self-love. The best way to go through life is to love yourself, take care of yourself, have your own back, and be your own first blonde bestie (you can work on forming a blondetourage later). Be proud of who you are and what you do, even if people assume that you’re a helpless, vain moron because of your dope hair. Even if people say your hair is brassy or your roots are showing or your hair color makes you look like a trashy hooker (I’ve been there!)—if it makes
you
happy, that’s all that matters. Whether you’re ashy blonde or California platinum or, heck, even a nonblonde, learn to love you for you because you’re fantastic and special and don’t need to apologize to anyone for it—you shine, literally.

Acknowledgments

A
huge thank you to Team Blonde: Stephanie Meyers, Elizabeth Evans, and Amanda Bergeron. Stephanie, you envisioned
The New Rules for Blondes
and you let me explore and execute—I am eternally grateful to you. Your vision and input on the early chapters were invaluable. My agent Elizabeth, your unending patience with me and confidence in this project kept me going. Thank you for making my dream come true. And my lovely editor, Amanda, your enthusiasm and positivity are an inspiration. Thank you for having faith in me and not vetoing even my most bizarre jokes.

Thank you to everyone at the Jean V. Naggar Literary Agency: Jessica Regel, Tara Hart, Jennifer Weltz, Ariana Philips, and Michelle Weiner at CAA. Everyone at It Books and HarperCollins Publishers has been so helpful and making me feel so welcome. Thank you to Kevin Callahan, Joel Cáceres, Joseph Papa, Liz Esman, Elissa Cohen, Mary Elizabeth Constant, and Karen Dziekonski.

I owe a debt of gratitude to my wonderful friends who helped me with the book either by contributing expertise, sharing in these experiences, reading early chapters, or confessing to hair horror stories: Suzanne Thornfeldt, Jackie Hassell, Kendra Cunningham, Alison Sager, Glennis McCarthy, Alison James, Ginny Van Alyea, Sara Benicasa, Kambri Crews, Jillian Bell, Sarah Baker, Kristen Johnson, Nikki Glaser, Stephanie Shoemaker, Paul Case, Christian Polanco, Kevin Tracy, Tomas Delgado, Dmitry Komis, Danny Leary, Leah Dubie, Alexa Berk, Heidi Edsall, Mary Beth Betancourt, Michael Robinson, Jeff Simmermon, and Roman J. Watson. Big ups to my brilliant pal Scott Patterson of Point B Productions for creating the trailer and Thank you to its stars: Amy Clearwater, Kate Hendricks, Amy Bjork, Georgia Read, Mara Herron, Alison Leiby, Bobby Mort, and Greg Johnson. A special thank-you to Suzanne for being my best friend since nursery school and my partner in crime throughout many of the adventures detailed in this book. As we always say, sometimes you have to go through brownish lowlights to experience platinum-perfection highlights.

Thank you to the people who fostered and supported my comedic voice early on: John Minigan at Weston High School, Will Luera at ImprovBoston, Rick Jenkins at the Comedy Studio, plus Tim Paul, Sue Constantine, and Calvin Swaim.

Finally, my eternal gratitude to Laurel, Bobby, Emily, Jon, and Maren. You have all been so supportive and excited every step of the way and it has meant the world to me.