I was once asked by a young person if I was a “real blonde” or a “fake blonde”.
I wondered; what is the difference?
Well, a real blonde apparently is genuine. If the woman has made it to age 20 and is still blonde, that is, the hair has not been darkened by the passage of time, then she is the “real deal” and this is somehow important.
If you can detect a dark root, an unkempt strand, a chemically treated lock, she’s a fake.
Perhaps there is the perception that a dyed blonde is somehow dishonest; trying to hide her true shade and using trickery to convince others she is pure.
Could it be that she is trying to hold onto her youthful vigour; that blonde hair is sometimes associated with times in the past, a flighty nymph, creating arabesques through the pasture, untouched by the cruel wrinkle or devilish foot of the crow.
In any case, they who colour their hair flaxen are tricksters. They tempt you with youth when they are the wisened crone.
The curse of darkness creeps down the bleached shaft like bitumen crossing the sun.
Be done with these deceitful Jezebels. They will strip your pockets while stirring your evening broth. They will convert your children to witchcraft!