Going Blonde

Sometimes I think about how badly I want to dye my hair blonde. (Context alert: I have olive skin and naturally black/v v dark brown hair). I wanted to go blonde so badly ("I wanted it to be you so badly"--name that movie) during my last week of college that I tore out magazine pictures of blonde hair on similarly dark-featured people and pasted them on my wall. A week later, I found myself in McNally Jackson's magazine section (standing next to Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone and playing it cool, mind you) writing down the names of blonde haired/olive skinned models/muses/whoever I saw in the glossy European fashion magazines that can only be found at the back of the top shelf (you know the ones, they're like $15 each.)

I got really into my dream of going blonde over the summer, threatening my bank account that I would spend my first paycheck on the mother of all dip dyes (sike! I bought these instead). But then I thought, better not. Like rediscovering a long lost love, I recently fell back into my blonde obsession. Part of it was fueled by reading about Into The Gloss's Emily Weiss/The Hills Super Intern and her double process, but I also felt like making a ch-ch-ch-change.

I found myself a little bored and unoccupied the other day during the holiday slug. I had already taken pictures of myself in Photo Booth and virtually tried on Warby Parker glasses, and I was on the prowl for a new narcissistic way to pass the time. I tried to find a virtual hair salon type thang, and I got as far as trying Gwen Stefani's hair on a picture of my face before I decided I had better things to do. Safe to say that Gwen Stefani's hair only looks good on Gwen Stefani, but I still haven't given up on going blonde.

Below: Images from my blonde book. Whatever.