The stigma

A friend alerted me to a discussion on Woman's Hour about whether there is still a stigma against redheads, and naturally I tuned in. As a self-confessed ginger wannabe (it's true that I am what one might call 'strawberry blonde' naturally, but enhance what God gave me with whatever Garnier, Schwartzkopf or, my dye of choice, Superdrug's own has on offer) but managing to hide it well behind more natural bullying choices from my then-peers (I was 5 feet 7 at 11 with short hair, go figure). 
The programme is doing the obligatory vox-pop and the comments coming back are fascinating. Redheaded women with flowing locks are deemed attractive, but men generally are not (clearly that individual has never clapped eyes on Damien Lewis or Paul Bettany). One man even associated redheads with witches. The fact that some poor boy from my hometown of Bristol ordered a pizza and got the pizza with 'ginger kid' written on the box is about the pinnacle of the strange strange practice of insulting the redheaded kids. 
There is speculation that society's hatred of redheads comes from historical cries of ethnic inferiority, and as the presenter accurately pointed out, history's great sinful women are often portrayed with red hair (see the works of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, who is thought to have had a much-desired flame-haired muse) and perhaps this story has filtered down to the mentality that a redheaded woman is fiery, wild and untameable, the colour of the flames from which the more flattering nicknames take their routes. See also 'Titian' and 'Pre-Raphaelite' for other flattering variants of the more popular 'carrot-top'. But as Charlie Dimmock (whom I remember more for never wearing a bra on Ground Force than being ginger) accurately pointed out, though J K Rowling made a valiant effort in making gingers acceptable with the gawky, kooky and slightly awkward and laughable Weasley family...yep, I don't need to explain that one do I? Ginger boys have and will continue to have a harder time of it than men blessed with blonde or brunette hair (worth noting that the first boy I ever had a proper crush on with ginger...) and it is generally something that even the girls have to grow into. 
I remember when a few years ago one of the monthlies ran a story about the popularity of the pixie crop. Yet that popularity, despite all the pictures of famous pixie-cuts they featured, is still to materialise. In a similar way, ginger is apparently the 'in' shade, but it took celebrity brunette Cheryl Cole to make sales rocket. It's a lot easier for ginger women than it is for ginger men, but you do get the feeling that they receive more recognition for the fact that they are ginger than what they actually look like. Women are on a quest to get the luxurious volume of Rosie Huntingdon Whiteley, the silky sheen of Kate Middleton, or the California dazzle of Blake Lively. Blondes and brunettes can sell anything - bags, makeup, clothes. Redheaded women just sell their hair. If they want to look like Christina Hendricks, they just reach for a bottle and disappear. 
These ads all appear in the first few pages of a monthly glossy. I like to think that's my point proven. Incidentally, there are only two redheads in the entire, 250 page magazine. One is advertising Schwartzkopf. One is a cartoon for Vivienne Westwood. No stigma, huh?


Heavy metal lover

Thank you Lady Gaga for getting me through this day.


Happy Solstice!

And to make it even better, I hear Stevie Nicks is releasing new material. 


He Brings Me Flowers

 And that's why I love him.


The Clash Goes On

Some snippets of outfits of the past few days...
Strawberry and Lime...like Rekorderlig. How good is that drink? 
What my delightful boss described as 'Indiana Jones Hooker', complete with a jungle-like mosquito bite and truly fabulous courts...
And an inspired clash by a friend of mine. Orange and blue, definitely a do. 


Hot Damn I Missed My Birthday!

You can tell I've been really super-busy because I only went and missed my flipping blog's two-year-anniversary!

Well, I do have an excellent excuse. I was here. 
I promise I'll do a proper superawesome belated birthday post soon. But for now, Happy Birthday Redhead-Fashionista! It's been a heck of a year. Thanks to all fans and followers; you all rock.


Feathers and stones

I'm really feeling this whole 'fragment' shot thing. I'm also feeling wearing this headband as a necklace with all my turquoise jewellery. 
Now if you'll excuse me, I don't think I've watched this enough today. 


In the details

Been a tad busy and with the rain and no suitable backdrop full outfit shots are tricky. But here are a few fragments of my outfits for the past few days.


I wish I was like you

(Images from Google, Piccsy, Style Rookie and Kingdom of Style)

Better than (I just had) sex

There are no words for how much I love these men.



Sometimes the best way to feel peaceful is to wear something light and floaty, sit in a field, and let everything go.


Scenes from Paris

Pretentious shots of food....

...and a shot of the Eiffel Tower. 
About the time I took this a massive lightning storm was lighting up that big bank of grey cloud. An extra little light show for us. 
Thank you to the man who made it possible. 


The city of lights

I intend to be spectacularly quiet for the next few days (more so than usual) because this redhead is being whisked away...to Paris.

So bon chance - I'll come back and do one of those deeply pretentious photo-heavy posts with pictures of my dinner and artsy shots of the Eiffel Tower.