I've heard it all. Pippi. Fire Crotch. Carrot top. Raggedy Ann. Freckle face. Ronald McDonald. Casper. Epithets for redheads or their acompanying characteristics don't faze me anymore.Thank you junior high.
So now that I'm in the adult world, free from taunting bullys and catty popular girls, I'm a rock. I wear the battle scars that machine gunnings of teasing and napalm attacks to the self-esteem have left me.
Those hard years only serve to make the redhead stronger. In fact, they may give her the firey personality she is reputed to have. (I, personally, am very even-tempered.)
Why is it that redheads are the only ones persecuted in youth for their hair color? Blondes may be the butt of many a dumb joke, but at least they were never subjected to jokes about their pubic hair. Perhaps humanity just fears what is different.
Some nicknames are affectionate. I'm sure we wouldn't mind a hot guy calling us Red every now and then, even if it's because he forgot our name. This and other names like Strawberry or Poppy are cute and endearing, ocasionally, when we're in a good mood.
But every time I wear my hair in two pigtail braids, I see it swell up in the vocal chords of every person I meet. That desire to call me Pippi Longstocking, grab my plaits, and dance them out to the side of my head.
I have red hair. I'm pale. Am I Irish? Not to my knowledge.But that doesn't stop most people I meet (redheads excluded) from asking me if I hail from the Emerald Isle. Maybe they think they're just being nice, starting a conversation, however wrong their assumptions might be.
Next time I'll have to excuse myself from the chit-chat - "You see, I've got an Irish Spring commercial to film and a Blarney stone to kiss."
Not only does her hair catch people's eyes but the redhead's clothes have to be visually captivating as well. I've noticed this in gal redheads, especially myself.The redhead's wardrobe is spectacular. She's a little more flashy and willing to experiment with color because, after all, her hair is already the wildest biological color there is.
The ostentatious gear a redhead dons is definately a result of her hair. As soon as she exits the womb, the redhead is a spectacle. Simply riding down the street in a stroller, the sidewalk becomes a veritable red carpet as passer-bys stop to gawk at the adorable little redhead. She becomes accustomed to being the center of attention early. For some reds this just means she's comfortable wearing flashy get-ups because she's used to being stared at. For others, being noticed becomes a life-long obsession as she fishes for compliments she's come to depend on. Whether she's just at ease with garrish tones or looking for attention, her hair most certainly plays a part.
Most people have a loudly-dressed redhead in their office. Look around. Yep, that's her with the fuschia top and the multi-colored tights. Awhile back, I noticed two token loudly-dressed redhead characters on TV. Both shows are now cancelled but "Newsradio"'s Vicki Lewis and "Suddenly Susan"'s Kathy Griffin played characters who are examples of that typical workplace redhead with the tricked out hair and the paisley skirts.
Another example of redheaded fashion sense comes from the Molly Ringwald trilogy (as I like to call it) of "Pretty in Pink", "The Breakfast Club", and "Sixteen Candles." These flicks show Ringwald as a thrift store junkie type who is at home in out-dated and gaudy articles of clothing, especially in "Pretty in Pink" where she fashions a prom dress that makes her stand out at the dance.
I have found that as a redhead, there's no color I need shy away from. I can go dark or bright or neutral. I can pull off every look from goth to hippie to retro. So maybe it's just another part of the redhead gene - an inclination towards an experimental wardrobe and adventurous sense of style.