Posted by: kristabella | August 29, 2007

The Brunettes Have It

A few days after I got my new do, I was sitting in my cube at work with my head down. (No, not sleeping. Reading my book. I reserve naps for under the desk, a la Costanza.) One of the women from the other side of the floor said to my cubemate “who’s sitting next to you now?” She didn’t realize I changed my hair color. And really, if you don’t see my face, why would you think the blonde girl dyed her hair dark?

She said some nice compliments, like pretty much everyone because they must be aware of my frail ego, but her big questions was “So, which one has more fun?”

And that got me thinking. Lightbulb! This could be a good social experiment. Which do have more fun? Blondes or Brunettes?

I’m here to break the news to the toe heads of the world. It’s brunettes. Well, when it comes to me, it’s brunette. By a freaking mile.

Ever since the drastic change, I have started to notice I’m getting a lot more attention. From the male persuasion.

Obviously it’s a lot more drastic to people who knew me as a blonde. But for everyone except my grandmother (who not so secretly told my mom she still hates my dark hair), they all LOVE IT! As do I.

I’ve noticed a lot more dudes checking me out. Like on the train, for instance. On my way down to the Bears game on Saturday, there was a guy I saw standing on the platform. Cute. Tall. Twelve. He was a good car length or more down the platform from me. And then crazy of all crazy, he ended up on MY car when the train finally came. And went in the same door. What ARE the odds?

And then Train Boy didn’t just follow me onto a train car, he full on stared at me. I’m not talking like make eye contact, look away. Full. On. Staring.

And I can’t say I didn’t like it. And thank jeebus for sunglasses, since I was staring right back.

After the game on Saturday night, my mom and I were hungry. And since there is like NOTHING around Soldier Field. And anything close is in the Loop, which freaking shuts down at 5 PM, we ended up walking a bit to a place we like that has good pizza. (Yes, I had PIZZA while I’m supposed to be on Weight Watchers. I figured mixed with the vat of wine it REALLY WASN’T GOING TO MATTER!)

We sat at the tables by the bar and were being helped by the weird looking waiter. Who was wearing sunglasses inside. At night. And had a ponytail. Anyway, he took quite a shine to ol’ KJ. Every time he came by, he rubbed my back. No. I’m dead serious. Every damn time. That never happened when I was blonde. I don’t know that that has ever happened.

The final piece of conclusive evidence was Sunday at lunch. After dress shopping. You know Sunday, when I didn’t shower and looked like I had been run over by a Mack Truck. Because I had just woken up from a six-day bender.

Anyway, Schwerer and I decided to hit up Red Robin for some chow. We had this cute 14-year old waiter. Really cute. We kept checking out his ass. He was all trying to be cutesy with me when I was ordering. Telling me that only girls in pink shirts (Schwerer) could order the Souper Sandwich combo. Har. Har. After ordering the ranch to come on the side, he asked “so you don’t want it on the sandwich?” And I responded “well, that’s usually what ‘on the side’ means.”

And I had him. Hook, line and sinker. He later came up, giving us his life story. (As if we ever asked. Just turn around Waiter Boy.) Asking us if we’ve ever been to Fridays (Rich just shot coke and rum out his nose). Because he had never been. Because they don’t have them in Alabama. (What?) And yada, yada, yada, he just moved here to go to a crappy community college. And Schaumburg scares him. And he hasn’t been to the city yet since he doesn’t turn 21 for a few more weeks. Sometime in September. Like me!

And then we dropped the bomb. We are 30. (Almost.)

And he said something that made me want to fold him up and put him in my purse for later. He said I look 20! Twenty! Two Zero. I’m sure he was looking for a good tip, but wow. He then backtracked (after we laughed in his face), and said more like 25. Which just led to more laughing. And then he cowered, with his tail between his legs, and gave us one last few of his cute arse.

So the results are in. It’s brunette all the way.

But maybe all the stares and attention might have something to do with always walking around with this face.


Because, yeah. I’d fucking stare at you too. CRAZY PERSON!



  1. Um, I could have told you this. My hair is darker than dark. Being a brunette totally rules.

  2. You’re a gorgeous brunette, K-Bella! Totally.

    I hate this blonde v. brunette debate because today? You can be both (Sarah Jessica Parker in one season of Sex in the City had blonde on top and brown underneath). And pretty much anyone can pull off either (e.g. Mandy Moore).

  3. Wow, this makes me want to try out brunette-ness for a day! Well, not really. I’ve always been a towhead and that’s who I am… I think I rock blonde quite nicely.

    But, it’s awesome how brunette is working for you.

    Wink, wink.

  4. I would like to point out that I love both blonde and brunette. Because I know that I’ll get tired of brunette and go back to blonde (or both!).

    And then I’ll write another post about “Blondes rule! Am awesome as blonde!”

    I think BOTH blondes and brunettes are fabulous.

  5. And what is it about the Loop shutting down at 5?


    For the record. I have a 15 year old that says Brunettes are the only ones he’s interested in.

  6. We talk about the Loop closing up shop so early all the time. It drives me nuts. It’s no wonder people flee and go back to the ‘burbs, because everything closes at 5. The West Loop stays has more evening and night stuff.

  7. If dark hair makes you happy, then that makes me happy. However, I wouldn’t never ever give up my blondness. Of course, I will be paying to retain my “natural color” until the day I die!!! : ) It is worth every penny to me!

  8. By the way, your new do looks great!

  9. people lerrrrve fridays!

  10. Perhaps I need to go brunette!

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