I’m just going to get right to the problem here and then tell the story that goes along with it after.
Middle aged German women cannot get enough of dying their hair magenta. I personally think it’s some sort of crisis, a real world issue that should be addressed but then again, I’m not going to be the idiot that approaches an angry frau in the cereal isle and ask her what brought her to such a charming personal beauty decision. Also, I think that the more purple the hair is, the blacker the soul and I’ll be honest. There’s a lot of really dark purple and magenta hair strolling the streets of the Fatherland. It’s like an epidemic.
C’mon, FRAUEN. You CANNOT possibly find magenta hair attractive. Not only is your hair color choice aggressive and revolting, the hair styles are a mess. A real live, what the hell in on top of your head and why is it making my eyes hurt, MESS.
So here’s why I’m carrying on about this today. I have a friend who lived here but recently had to move back home and so we were talking the other day about life and she seemed to miss The Fatherland and so I asked her if I should send her a care package.
“What can I send from Germany to cheer you up? Something evil, something angry, a book of rules? What?” I’m sure I could walk down to the shop and find something angry looking and then also include a pack of freeze dried meat. That would probably do the trick.
“Yes, all that. And a box of magenta hair dye. That would be perfect.” When she said magenta, her voice lifted.
“Done. Oh, WAIT. I will do you one better. I have a brilliant idea. What if I bought a wig, a magenta wig, and brought it with me on all of my trips? What if I kept it in my car? What if everywhere in the world that I go to from now on, I bring it with me and take a picture of myself in it, especially in front of monuments and historical buildings and things of beauty?” I was almost shrieking in my head as I furiously typed out the idea. I am so smart sometimes.
“Ohmygod PLEASE DO. That would be amazing.” Now she was excited and we agreed that every other person that has ever met an angry German frau over the age of say, mmmm 40, would be excited about this project, too. 40 seems to be the turning point for the hair.
“Yes, yes. Of course it would. It could be a monthly blog feature just for you. We shall call it, WHERE IN THE WORLD IS FRAU HOPKINS??”
Frau Hopkins would be angry and bitter and have hair like a bird’s nest. She would also have a look of disgust constantly, as though she just sucked on a lemon, whether posing in front of the White House or a baby panda or the world’s most beautiful waterfall. Nothing would ever be good enough for Frau Hopkins and her evilest of eyes would be proof.
Whew. Sorry. I got a bit carried away with my Frau personality. Not sure how that happened…
Anyway. My friend and I both laughed hard from different sides of the ocean and agreed upon our newest idea. So. I ordered a wig and hopefully it’ll be here before June. I have a nice summer planned and I hope to be able to moonlight as Frau Hopkins once in a while.
First, here are the wigs. This first wig is the one I ordered. The color might be slightly too light, but the hairstyle is pretty good. If I have to, I can re-dye it myself with a box of magic from the local store. I’ll even let a neighbor pick the shade for me.
This second wig is just amazing. I there are at least 4 women on my street with this particular look.
If you have never been to Germany or can’t quite picture what I’m talking about, here are a few pics of me as Frau Hopkins from past trips.
Now for the test run of, WHERE IN THE WORLD IS FRAU HOPKINS
First up, we have Frau Hopkins enjoying the scenery in a local village in Germany. The Frau loves to hike and enjoy the nice weather on the weekends.
Next, here is a picture of visiting The Louvre.
Next, we have Frau Hopkins making an appearance at my sister’s wedding last year. It’s a black and white, though, but you can tell how dark the purple is.
And now for the finale. Here is Frau Hopkins in Salzburg. What was supposed to be a nice winters day was ruined by a disgusting batch of chesnuts. Jesus, chesnuts are the WORST.
Just kidding. Frau Hopkins isn’t frowning because of the chesnuts. She’s frowning because that’s what FRAUEN do. They frown and they love magenta.
And that, friends, is your German lesson of the day.