For people who appreciate characteristics that set people apart, gingers are perfect.”īeing “special” is an expectation hoisted on redheads due to this genetic rarity (only 2% of the world’s population are ginger). “It’s a rare genetic expression that people aren’t used to seeing. “Many people simply find this uniqueness attractive,” he says.
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But with redheads, there’s something so unique and special about them.” This is a quality Aaron Endre, a self-described “ginger enthusiast,” also shared with me. “It’s about extremes for me,” a date of mine said recently. Choosing a redhead for his hair is like choosing a cereal because it has a cool toy in its box. But as is common with appearance-based fetishization, this becomes a problem when the features overshadow the person’s identity and humanity. I understand these messages are intended as compliments, and I do generally regard them as such. I’ve been told redheads are nicer than other hair colors (which may be true-a condition of being teased), are well-endowed, and are superior lovers. Recently, I was asked, “Are you Ginger from Gilligan’s Island?” It was a weak effort, but unique nonetheless. “Ginger bush rocks!” and “You don’t shave that beautiful bush, do you?” are two common examples. Unfortunately, how most choose to articulate this attraction can be jarring. The hair I once desperately wanted to alter in favor of “Eminem-yellow” has become a unique selling feature, an added spice to your typical white boy.
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Now, as an openly bisexual adult, I receive a different kind of attention for my hair-especially from men. As a result, I grew up resenting my red hair and the traits inherent to the MCR-1 gene: freckles, pale skin, forever clashing in oranges and pinks. Walking the halls in high school, people would holler “fire crotch,” “ginger pubes,” “carrot top” and whatever else their uninventive minds could conjure. As a kid, I was tormented for my red hair.