I’ve been off work all week with the flu and started reading this because it looked light and about the only thing my stuffed up head would be able to cope with – but actually, this has been a real delight and infinitely better than I expected.
I have to admit that I was a bit worried about reading this at the start when the woman who wrote it started talking about how she had dyed her hair blonde (Oh dear, one of ‘those’ books – I thought) but it didn't end up being like that at all. Joanna is clever and with a good eye for a story. That’s pretty much what this book is, in a way, a series of stories, most of them incredibly interesting and amusing. The story of Phryne, an Ancient Greek blonde sex symbol who was brought to trial for profaning religious festivals and who was defended by one of her lovers was close to the first of these. The defence wasn’t going well until her defence lawyer / lover pulled away her clothes and basically said, “How could you find anyone guilty with a nice pair of breasts like these little lovelies” – which the all-male judges agreed, well, after careful consideration of the facts obviously. I knew from that moment (19 pages in) that I was going to enjoy this book. There is even a plate of the 1861 painting of the scene (Phryne Before the Tribunal) as imagined by Gerome included for no extra price.
The book takes us on a tour of the ancient world of hair dyeing so as to make it golden blonde – using saffron or horse piss or bird droppings. It takes us through the Middle Ages where Eve, Mary Magdalene and the Virgin Mary all end up having blonde hair, if all for different reasons. It takes us via Lucrezia Borgia to the painters of the Renaissance and then onto the Virgin Queen of England and her multiple wigs (all blonde). It takes us under the powered wigs to witness the scurry of insects that would infest them and discusses how the tax on flour helped to end the fashion.
There is a creepy bit on the Romantic poets and their addiction for blonde hair – Browning begging Elizabeth for a lock of her hair and Rossetti burying the first drafts of his poems wrapped in his wife’s hair in her coffin (only to retrieve them years later and having to tear the poems out of her hair that had continued to grow around the poems).
But this book becomes totally compelling when she starts to talk about Eugenics and the growth of Nazism and the twentieth century’s obsession with Nordic looks as being symbolic of the peak of human evolution. What is most disturbing is not just her discussion of the German obsession with this, but the parallel obsessions she tracks in both the US at the time and also in the USSR (the new man and new woman seem to have been nearly invariably blonde). This book is overall a book about race and the cultural significance of blonde hair, but when it gets to the twentieth century blonde hair develops many frightening aspects.
This is also a fascinating look at what blonde hair means to women – in the 1950s blonde hair was used as a weapon against women, basically to get them to go back to being housewives now their husbands had returned home from beating that bad Mr Hitler. But in a quick tour of everything from L’Oreal ads (‘because you’re worth it’) to the Punk scene in Britain in the 1970s she makes an interesting case for how dyeing your hair blonde achieved a different meaning towards the end of last century. I particularly loved the quote, ‘While a huge 96 per cent of housewives polled in 1962 described themselves as extremely or very happy, 90 per cent of the same sample hoped that their daughters would not lead the same life they did.’ You know, I couldn’t be happier, but wouldn’t wish it on someone I loved…
The stuff in this book about fairytales (mostly populated by blonde haired women – all except Snow White, ironically) and about Rita Hayworth (I’d no idea she was Spanish and was re-modelled into the ideal Nordic American beauty – including not only dying her hair (blonde, of course) and changing her accent, but also changing her hairline using electrolysis – is worth the price of the book alone.
I really enjoyed this one, in fact, I could hardly put it down.