A recent Saturday morning’s scroll through Facebook updates and something caught my eye. A friend who has recently moved to Dubai to be with the person she loves had posted some happy festive photos. And she’d dyed her hair brown. What with her being a stunning looking girl, tall and blonde and having moved to a country with some questionable attitudes towards women, I immediately put two and two together and made about 5000. On came the feminist hat and conclusions were jumped to Grand National Steeplechase proportions.
My god – did she have to do this to fit in somehow or to discourage male pestering? Was this a way of coping in her new life in Dubai, did she feel she had to tone down her look and try not to attract ‘attention’? How shocking! Still musing over these questions when I caught a glance of myself in a mirror. I had spent the previous twenty minutes scrubbing the en-suite and was wearing only my underwear (a well-known method to avoid getting bleach splashes all over ones’ clothes as we all know) and had thrown a short silky red dressing gown over as the morning was chilly. In my underwear, scrubbing the bathroom – next stop ‘barefoot, pregnant in the kitchen’. Ah. Hardly a spectacle of liberated modern feminist womanhood.
I still don’t know the reason why my friend coloured her hair. Perhaps I’m right and its something she felt she had to do for whatever reason. Perhaps she just fancied a change. And truth be told if she’s done the same while in her native Australia I’d not have batted an eyelid. But I it was a reminder that just sometimes things are not necessarily how they seem and many situations may in fact be other than how they appear.
Anyone else ever catch themselves in mid-rant only to realise they may not only have gotten the wrong end of the stick but only realised it after administering a damn good proverbial battering?