Madam Peroxide

Barbie campaigning.

Since bleaching my hair a few days ago, I have been entertained by the astounding number of people who have asked, "Are you having more fun now?" This of course recalls the old Lady Clairol hair color ads that said I definitely would, and added, "If I have one life to live, let me live it as a blonde." My mother bought into that message, and although she was a redhead she wanted the best for me and so started lightening my hair, discreetly, when I was a mere tot, swabbing peroxide on it with a cotton ball after each shampoo. When I learned to read at age 5 or 6, I looked up "peroxide" in the dictionary and put an end to all that. (For about ten years; I took it up again in high-school.)

Sadly, among the many things I am too old for now, "having more fun" may be one of them. It seemed like a worthy goal: to be blonde and silly and just enjoy life, skimming along the surface. But I am apparently incapable, mostly because my body will not cooperate; for example, it's tough to be a bimbo when you need to see a periodontist for a gum abscess. You can still be blonde, but perkiness is simply out of reach under those circumstances.

The real question is, can blonde Hillary be president? A study by hair-care giant Clairol shows that 76 percent of women and 74 percent of men believe the first woman to be elected president will be a brunette. Condi, where are you?