My berk is having a blonde moment

Q

Dear Aunty Merle

I’ve been dating this really sweet guy for two years now. He is such a gentleman and spoils me rotten. I like to make him happy too, so I do whatever pleases him.

I don’t mind it, except lately I’ve noticed that he likes a certain look on a woman. Or rather, certain women. To be even more specific: white, blonde women.

We will pass a beautiful white woman and he will say to me: “Babe, I think straight, blonde hair would nogal suit you.”

Now Aunty, please note that I am a young, coloured woman with brown, curly hair. I look after myself and I’m not bad-looking at all. But I am no Barbie doll.

I want to make him happy, but should I change my appearance for the man I love if that’s his “type”?

From Curly Sue

A

Dear Curly Sue

My philosophy is that if a man even suggests that you must change for him, then that already is the first sign that you should run to the hills. Not with him. You are a real person. You are not somebody’s fantasy.

When we were growing up in Harfield, one of my best friends was Edna Matthews. Edna lived diagonally across the road from us, just two doors away from Piesang-and-them.

Edna was beautiful then already, with thick pitch-black hair, long legs, and cheekbones that would make even Naomi Campbell blush.

Piesang’s brother, Alroy, took a strong liking to Edna when we were teens. Alroy, like his bother, Piesang, was very smart and popular and had green eyes for most of the year. Just in winter it would turn a brownish-green colour. Odd, but true.

Well, while everyone in Surrey Street was taken with Edna and Alroy as the “it-couple”, I had my doubts.

Because Piesang mos had a big mouth. Especially when the happy juice was flowing while playing dominoes in the yard with my brother, Milton, and their crew.

And then you would hear out of Piesang’s mouth how he and Alroy secretly enjoyed having nice illegal times out with the girls from the other side of the railway line. The blondies. With the blue eyes. And the movie star accents.

He even went as far as to say that, if it was legal, they would not mind walking up the aisle with one of those Claremont girls.

And as the dominoes fell, so life quickly moved on. Edna came to me one day, saying that she and Alroy were getting married, and that, on Alroy’s insistence, they will be moving to London to make a better life for themselves.

Alroy and Piesang had a sister living in London. Strong girl. A nurse. Plain, but very warm.

As a friend, I then felt it was my duty to tell Edna not to rush into things.

And that Alroy still had an appetite for the other side of the railway line.

But Edna just looked at me and said that boys will be boys, and that everything will be perfect once there’s a wedding band.

I still remember hugging Edna at the farewell party at the factory where we worked in Salt River, begging her to reconsider.

It all happened so quickly. The wedding. The move over to London. The divorce.

Yes, the divorce. Because as soon as Alroy arrived in London, where everyone looked as though they were from Claremont, he could not keep his eyes and his hands to himself.

En alles was mos toe legal. Alroy found his little blonde trophy and left my heartbroken friend high and dry in Putney.

It took Edna years to regain her pride and her confidence. And much later in life, she eventually found someone who loved her for the beautiful woman who she was - but after so very many wasted years. Years that she can never get back.

Curly Sue, when a man gives you hints of what he is looking for, believe him. The message is loud and clear.

And then you have to decide: are you going to compete with this fantasy for the rest of your life - or do you choose to celebrate yourself and be with someone who can appreciate you for the wonderful woman that God created you to be?

The choice is yours.

I know what I would do.

All my love,

Aunty Merle x