Blonde on blonde

Apparently, towards the end of the last Ice Age, our male forebears became a minority amongst an increasing majority of women. The physical endeavor required to hunt bison and woolly mammoths meant that many males died and left the women with a shrinking pool of breeders. This meant that no matter how duff ugly said male specimens were, they miraculously had their pick of cavewomen to mate with.

Out clubbing of a weekend, prehistoric man was faced with a selection of voluptuous, barefoot goddesses. He started to become increasingly particular about the rare ones with fair hair, light colored eyes and pale skin. This ensured the rise of the blonde cavewoman and the guarantee that the golden gene would be passed to the next generation. It may have started as a genetic mutation, but flash forward a few millennia and somehow the perceived appeal of flaxen locks has stuck.

Blonde hair is often associated with youth and it’s been said that those around blondes have a tendency to fawn over them, encouraging them to behave in a child-like way to get attention. The archetypical ‘dumb blonde,’ is seen as attractive and popular, but not necessarily smart. It’s something that the most amateur of anthropologists can observe at any bar, restaurant, or social gathering up and down the country.

It may not be fair, it certainly isn’t rational (have you seen the queue’s around Headmasters for half price highlights? No-one over the age of 30 even knows what their real hair colour is anymore) but it’s there. Alive and well in London town, at least the last time I looked (Saturday night, since you ask). So next up I plan to observe men. For purely professional reasons you understand. Having recently attended an event with the delightfully bumbling Boris Johnson, I’d be inclined to say that a little playing up to the stereotype is something many males embrace as well. I’ll keep you posted.

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