Blondes have more fun, so they say. Not sure where that leaves the rest of us in the "fun" stakes but I'm sure I'm not the only one to have realised that statement is a bit of a nonsense.
I've tried every hair colour going in my 29 years (except perhaps the Katy Perry bright blue!), and different memories, photographs, and relationships are inextricably linked to those different barnet hues.
Mousey brown at school - not really in the "in" crowd, more a bit of an unmemorable nobody. Then came university, a few changes along the way, red streaks was one, and I vividly remember returning to school and people commenting on how noticeable my hair was. What an exciting feeling, to finally be noticed.
As my confidence grew, so I embraced the idea of blondes having more fun and my early 20s saw me hit the bleach hard, a "fun-loving" party girl, never far from the action and, though never short of a bit of attention, perpetually single, or darting from fling to fling.
My late 20s saw a switch to brunette - calmer, more content.
Until, that is, a brief crisis of confidence sparking a sudden desire to get the bleach out again. What it was meant to achieve is still not quite clear, in my own mind at least. Did I want a return to the "fun" Ellen of yesteryear, turning heads in bars, partying the nights away? Well, no, to be quite frank. I definitely don't want to go back to that. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt!
Perhaps it was something more simple - a bit of fear that comes with that realisation that you're actually a "grown-up"? Does a return to peroxide-loving me mean things like mortgages, weekends full of DIY, and lengthy discussions about career paths and future plans all seem somewhat more distant and less daunting? Perhaps it was just a bit of escapism, a moment of rose-tinted glasses.
The irony, of course, being that for those who met and knew only brunette Ellen, the blonde one wasn't any different, just sported a different hair colour.
So, here we are, three months down the line, and the brown is back already. Did I have more fun in those months? Did I feel more carefree, tossing off the responsibilities I have (which obviously I have chosen along the way, I hasten to add!)? The answer to these, and many more questions about whether my hair colour changed my life is no. The key to my personality, my thoughts, feelings, angst or problems, isn't some Samson-style connection to the current shade I've chosen, or indeed the style. Rather than guiding my decisions or actions, it seems these decisions about which dye to pick up are - if anything - perhaps a mirror, reflecting the way I see myself.
So, brown, brunette, redhead or bleached blonde - at the ripe old age of nearly 30, am I ever going to return to the me of 21? Or even 25? Or the person I was during any of the different periods of different hair colours?
That's doubtful, and quite frankly, probably a very good thing.........
