My mum is really fair and has blonde hair, and my dad is not dark, either.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Hairdressers call me dark blonde, but I think they're wrong. I feel far more naturally confident blonde. My mum's blonde, my sister's platinum blonde. I thought, 'When I grow up, that's what I'm going to look like.'
I'm such a blonde. It just doesn't make sense for me to have dark hair.
I dyed my hair blonde when I was 14. My mom was not happy. But I love being blonde.
I've got my dad's height and smoking habit. But I think I've got my mum's looks and sensibilities.
People do think you're more intelligent if you have dark hair. But my husband definitely prefers me as a blonde.
My dad is Caucasian, and my mom is African American. I'm half black and half white. Being biracial paints a blurred line that is equal parts staggering and illuminating.
When I look in the mirror, I see my late mother: I have her nose, her dark eyes - I call them chocolate eyes - I have her colouring, and my hair is greying the same way, although I use colour and she didn't.
My mother is black and my father is Filipino. I got the best of both worlds.
My mom has accepted my style. My dad is a little suspect with all the bright colors and loud stuff. He's a khakis and polo kind of guy. He's OK with it, but the loud stuff, he says I'm his little daughter.
My father has fair skin, and my mother is dark, and I'm kind of cafe au lait.