I've recently had a change. Not of heart, but of hair colour. Over the years I've been everything bar platinum blonde and jet black, but just about everything in between. I'm lucky, it seems, because I have no, or at least very little, colour to my skin, and very neutral eyes. They're supposed to be blue, but are more of a blu-ish, grey-ish greenish North Sea on a cloudy day off Skegness kind of tone.

It wasn't always this way. I went the first 20-odd years of my life with my hair its natural colour. Darkish, red-ish brown, as far as I can recall. 

A change of colour is a fun thing, of course.

but I'm fascinated by how different I feel in different hair. And, more recently, I've noticed that people do regard you differently.

I'm not suggesting that they expect different things of me. Not in the stereotypical blondes have more fun mode. But I find that when I go blonder people, especially chaps, have more to say about it.

Now these reactions might be simply down to people being affected by the vibes I give off, by the differences in how I feel.

for myself I feel more confident when I'm a dark brunette, perhaps because it's the nearest to my natural shade.

As a blonde I always feel slightly artificial, in appearance at least. And I feel more high-maintenance, not just because those roots need a lot of attention, but because, being very pale, I find I need a lot more colour on my face to balance it.

As a redhead? Well, I feel strangely comfortable and happy. Because that's the colour I always wanted to be. It was the colour my Grandma Buckler was. And the colour of many members of my family.