I remember vividly one distinct memory of arriving in Hong Kong and being the only blonde haired girl in this sea of international students, and thinking, 'Oh, my God. There's no hiding here.'
I've been boxing ever since I was 16. I love surprising people who think a short, blond girl can't fight! Just because I look a certain way doesn't mean I'm weak.
I'm very self-conscious having my picture taken, so I clown around. My driver's license photo looks like a blonde Elvis.
I grew up in the Alps and France, and Barbie was my first exposure to the American woman. For me she was blonde, she was free and she was fun.
The recognition factor is so much higher when I'm a redhead, so when I'm a blonde I can pass under the radar a lot more easily.
I definitely believe in type casting. If you're a girl with bleach-blonde hair, everyone automatically thinks 'prom queen, cheerleader.' It just happens.
The girl next door isn't necessarily blonde and blue-eyed anymore. So I don't feel like I need to morph into that all-American thing.
I never have had blonde hair. I have never had straight hair. I never wear pink clothes or spray tan and I never wore heels to school.
My son walked up to Nicole on the beach and I was throwing the ball for the dogs in the ocean. I was like, 'Max, you get the dogs. I'll talk to the hot blondes.'
I used to be very insecure about my curly hair, because I lived in a country where everybody had blonde straight hair.
I studied voice for three months to get rid of my English accent. I changed my hair to blonde. I knew I could be sexy if I had to.
I was raised Catholic, and I remember in all the pamphlets and pictures we'd look at, Jesus was basically blonde with blue eyes. He kind of looked like Jared Leto.
I fed my yak on my spare Cadbury chocolate 21,0000ft up Everest. It was a blonde, very sweet female yak. I made it my pet after that.
I suffer from peroxide phobia. Every time I've gotten near a blond woman, something of mine has disappeared. Jobs, boyfriends... one time an angora sweater leaped right off my body.
Bill: So what's a girl like you... The Blonde: Doing in a place like this? Bill: ...doing with a bald old cunt like that?
Tuco: I'm looking for the owner of that horse. He's tall, blonde, he smokes a cigar, and he's a pig!
[Barbara sees Sheba talking to Sue Hodge who is rather plump] Barbara Covett: Ah, the blonde and the pig in knickers.
Mr. Blonde: Eddie, you keep talking like a bitch, I'm gonna slap you like a bitch.
[while cutting Marvin Nash's ear off] Mr. Blonde: Hold still! Hold still, you fuck!
There was a point - when I was a kid - where I said I wanted to be like Luke Skywalker, with blond hair and blue eyes. My mom right there told me to never be ashamed of who I am.
My first wife was a brunette, and Barbi Benton, my major romantic relationship of the early 1970s, was a brunette. But since the end of my marriage, all of my girlfriends have been blonds.
