It's a truth near-universally acknowledged that blondes have more fun.
So we, a group of non-blondes, set out on a highly scientific experiment to determine whether or not this was an actual truth, or just something blonde people say to make us feel inferior.
After reviewing the notes in our Lisa Frank binders from fourth-grade science class, we bought a trifold board and began outlining what we would need to answer the question. In order for our data to have any weight, the experiment must be repeatable. We repeated it four times — with the naturally dark-haired Jessica, Christina, Dria, and Sarah.
Blondes have more fun.
They say blondes have more fun. But who dafuq is "they"?
They is Clairol — in the 1950s and '60s, ads for Lady Clairol asked "Is it true blondes have more fun?" So, maybe we got obsessed with being blondes because we are mindless sheep being brainwashed by our cattle driver, Clairol. OR maybe we are sheep that really do have more fun being blonde? Bah, bah, black sheep, you know?
The concept was also made popular in film.
Test Subject 1: Jessica
My typical non-blonde weekend:
My weekends go one of two ways. I either have a crazy weekend where I try to fit in hangouts with all my friends and boyfriend, and go out as much as possible, or I stay in, relax, and do nothing but Netflix and chill. When I actually go out, I am a very friendly person, and I try to meet as many people as possible, especially if I'm drinking. I am one of those people who will add everyone around me on Facebook and then forget who they were the next morning (I'm sorry, I can't help it). One thing I must say, though, is that I don't like being the center of attention, so I was really nervous about wearing a blonde wig because I didn't want to stand out more than usual.
My weekend as a blonde:
For this experiment I decided to go to one of my best friend's DJing gigs in Alphabet City, New York. I figured if I was going to try to stand out, a place filled with people dancing would be a good place to really test out how "blonde me" would act out. And, to my surprise, nothing really changed, and I acted the same way I usually do, only with the pain of having to wear a ridiculous-looking wig on my head. My wig was pretty low quality, so I paired it with a fitted cap so it would look more realistic. Even though my experience overall didn't change, my friends and different people I met told me I looked like an animé character as a blonde.
Throughout the night I tried being a bit louder and more "fun," but then I realized that if I had to purposely push myself to be even more outgoing, then I was forcing the experiment to go a certain way instead of just letting it be. So then I decided to just have a good time and see if people treated me differently, but they really didn't! Since it was easy to figure out I was wearing a wig, at one point one of my best friends borrowed it. That was the only out of the ordinary thing that happened, because at that point I just had the little sock thing you use under the wig on. Other than that, being a blonde wasn't a life-changing event for me.
Test Subject 2: Christina
My typical non-blonde weekend:
I usually go out dancing at least one night every week. My current hair is a purple-yellow mullet, which makes for some crazy freakish dancing. I have a lot of fun, but I usually don't flirt-dance, something that requires eyelash-batting at leery men. Then, after one night of expending all my energy, I stay home and eat croissants from my local coffee shop. Sometimes I do laundry. Most of the time I sit at home thinking about chores I should complete.
My weekend as a blonde:
First, I went shopping because I hate shopping, and, using Cher from Clueless as an example, blondes love shopping. There were two things that resulted from this blonde excursion: I gravitated toward clothing that I'd never wear as a non-blonde, and clothes that I would usually try on looked awful on me as a blonde (see Coachella-like shirt vs. cotton sack). I spent about 40 minutes in the dressing room, shamelessly taking selfies after every outfit change. When I finally came out, there were about 10 people waiting in line, glaring at me. I felt exposed: a pure charlatan! And to top that off, my wig got caught on the ends of the unwanted clothes rack. I pitifully pulled the synthetic strands from the hanger and cried out a weak "ahhhhh." Even though I left mortified, I spend $50: $30 more than I normally spend.
My next adventure as a blonde was to date on the Tinder. Feeling 100 times more narcissistic, I took a hilarious number of hot selfies and uploaded them to my Tinder profile. I also changed my bio to "Just a blonde tryna have fun **kiss**." While my match rate was more or less the same, messages came in more quickly and were flirty AF. I secured a date for Saturday night at a bougie nightclub and spent 50 minutes longer than usual getting ready, but my final hot, vampy goth look was worth it.
The date started out with some classic blonde fun — we danced sexily and sipped vodka like it was lemonade. Eventually, we went to a "quiet corner," and as we started making out, my wig slipped off. I couldn't stop laughing and my date seemed to like my short mullet much more. He kept complimenting it the rest of the night, and I still felt like a glamorous mermaid.
Test Subject 3: Dria
My typical non-blonde weekend:
My typical non-blonde weekend consists of running errands, doing something exercise-y, and RSVPing for parties that I may or may not actually go to. Depends on so much, you know — was I productive during daylight? Are my friends going for sure? Is there a damn train from Brooklyn to the venue that won't have me en route for longer than the actual party itself? If two of the three can't be answered with "yes," then I drink wine at my apartment and chill the fuck out. Which is very fun to me. Therefore, I give non-blonde, black-haired Dria a fun rating of 4.
My weekend as a blonde:
This weekend, I decided to do the same things, 'cause if it ain't broke, don't fix it! But I did want to see if being blonde would make it ~more~ fun.
On Saturday I rode the train to a burlesque class. The day before, I had long black cornrows and met the daily minimum of three catcalls along the four-block walk from my place to the train. But today, wig, and I got no love. No whistles, whispers, compliments, or anything. Wait a minute… that might be an improvement! But alas, riding the train local from Brooklyn to Soho was decidedly as unfun as ever.
The burlesque class was a different story. The idea of being performatively sexy always scared (and attracted) me. This was something I'd been wanting to do for a while, but I was hoping that doing it while blonde would help me release my inhibitions and get into "character." And by character, I just mean a version of myself who would find looking in the mirror and playing with feather boas sultry and seductive.
I was put to the test immediately: The instructor had us sit cross-legged on yoga mats and breathe deep into our "pussies." I giggled. She gave me a stern look and said, "Pussy's how you got here; pussy's how you'll get through." That shit made a lot of sense, yo. I looked in the mirror. The blonde hair looked back and told me to get my act together. And then we (me, wig, and pussy) got into it and had a ball!
Afterward I went to a new restaurant for brunch and sat at the bar to eat. Being blond made that easier because I was like, "Damn, I might look lame because I'm eating alone, but I also definitely look fabulous."
Night fell and I did that thing where I weighed my options. There were two super-cool parties I really meant to go to. But I didn't have anything to wear beyond cute hair, plus, the fucking local trains, plus I was sleepy. I called it a night early on Day 1.
Sunday:
The patron saint of being a black girl with blond hair, Beyoncé, dropped Lemonade the night before. This was a good sign! I went to the gym and watched the visual album while doing the elliptical. Gotta be honest… that shit was dark and not at the right RPMs, but me and wig had to keep running 'cause a winner don't quit on themselves. Instead of my usual one and done, I went four miles. So yes, the gym was more fun! Success.
Test Subject 4: Sarah
My typical non-blonde weekend:
I'm typically out late during the week, so I like to use my weekends to relax. I typically do my laundry, walk my dog, watch TV, and then go out to a bar with friends.
Overall I would say I like my non-blonde hair. I went through phases where I had bangs to hide my large forehead, or used fancy shampoo to combat greasy hair (when I learned about dry shampoo, it was a great gift). Once a year I get highlights or ombres to lighten myself up during the summer. I understand my hair is also a lot less expensive to upkeep compared to my blonde friends who regularly go in for highlights or touch-ups. Although, as I've gotten older, gray hairs have started appearing. If regularly coloring my hair to cover grays is right around the corner, why not experiment? Right? RIGHT?
My weekend as a blonde:
On Friday night, I slipped my blonde wig over my blah brunette hair and headed out to a bar to met some friends. I felt like I was playing a character, and unconsciously started leaning into it. At one point, my blonde friend Allie leaned over and asked, "Do you think blondes are dumb?" I didn't know what she meant, but then she pointed out I was giggling and twirling my hair a TON. She was right. I was... I just didn't realize I was doing it. I do think I was acting more carefree than I usually would — I wouldn't say I was trying to be "dumb," per se.
I was also feeling confident. Confident enough to charge my friend on Venmo while sitting across from her and staring her in the face.
On Saturday night, I didn't want to change my regular happenings that much, so I decided to stay in and watch Beyoncé's Lemonade with my dog. What would usually be a lame night in was actually life-changing, but it's a little hard to tell if that was the wig or Beyoncé.
Spending dat $$$ and hanging out with confused, real blondes.
For Sunday night, I upgraded my blond wig and went to a Game of Thrones viewing party. I was feeling very fun. But then a Tony Award nominee told me I looked bad in blonde, so that knocked me down a few pegs.
Jessica's Conclusion:
I honestly don't know why people make such a big deal about stereotyping blondes or brunettes as a certain type of person. My experience this weekend taught me that whatever perception I had about being a blonde was dumb, because it felt the same as being a brunette — especially in a place like New York City where there are so many things happening every day and there are so many people with so many different hair colors! I feel like maybe I would've gotten more attention if I had worn an orange or green wig, but even then, coloring your hair with funky colors is a huge trend right now, so maybe it wouldn't have made a difference. Overall, it was a really fun experiment to try even though nothing really changed for me.
Christina's Conclusion:
Overall, the blonde variable of my experiences led to me having more fun. But, probably that's only because I performed a role that I'm insecure about: acting sexy and immodestly egotistic. Being blonde taught me to not judge my own character. The next time anyone comments on my outrageous selfie habits, I'll tell them that it was the blonde in me. Everyone has a little blonde in them: Blonde is cool, blonde is fun, with or without the actual hair!!!!
Dria's Conclusion:
I think I actually had slightly less fun as a blonde, but this is because I'm old and washed. The blonde hair, which was very cute, did not make me want to have insane amounts of fun, nor did it inherently make fun things funner. But I think I need another weekend, maybe with longer, blonder hair, to decide!
Sarah's Conclusion:
Being blonde certainly enhanced my weekend. I think it's more about doing something different that's exciting. I bet if I were a blonde for all my life, dying my hair dark brown would be equally exciting. Scientifically, it is not true that blondes have more fun. But fake blondes certainly do.
As evidenced by this science chart, overall blondes do have more fun.*
There you have it. Science.
Please come check us out at PS 74's Science Fair.
