Gentlemen, as Anita Loos told us years ago, prefer blondes. But she wasn't thinking about some nouveau Jazz Age development. Our jones for blondes is in our DNA, something that got hardwired in the species on that day eons ago when some simple-celled ancestor crawled out of the primordial ooze onto some chilly beach, beheld the sun, the great blazing orb, and sensed that with all that light and heat a rich, multicelled life would be possible. It's the same with us. We see those halos of golden hair and we are warmed.
Pictured on these pages is evidence that, of all the world's brilliant blondes, the Swedish blonde is the beluga caviar, the Havana Cohiba, the Bobby Hull slap shot, the Boston baked bean--in short, the gold standard for the golden haired. Now, if you're a Danish blonde, a Norwegian blonde, a Finnish blonde, even a marigold-yellow Bronx blonde, you may wonder if your charms aren't being given short shrift. Well, maybe they are. We'll make a note to investigate. But for now just give us a moment to appreciate these corn silk--haired Swedes.
Sweden has given the world many gifts, but some are a little heavy on the push-back. For example, a Swede, Alfred Nobel, invented TNT. Thanks, Al--very helpful. Vikings: a great nickname for a football team but not exactly PC on the pillage issue. Ikea furniture: looks fab in the catalog but daunting spread out in pieces on the floor. ABBA: sold a lot of records but not to anybody who'll admit it. The guitar stylings of Yngwie J. Malmsteen.... See a pattern?
But the blondes just keep giving. With their blue eyes, the milky radiance of their skin and their shining corona of hair, a light exudes from them that does not dim. Men love blondes and always have. In Sweden, one of the lands of the midnight sun, the skies may blacken in winter, but the nights are never truly dark.
See more Swedish blondes at cyber.playboy.com.
