Some people will see redheads as easy targets – but I love my hair
In the wake of a teenager in England committing suicide after bullying over her hair colour, Martina Devlin describes what it was like to grow up as a redhead
Being a redhead is both a blessing and a curse. The sense of being blighted comes first: that's because the nicknames are inexorable.
Rust Bucket. Fanta Face. Ginger Whinger. And unforgettably, following a school visit to the zoo – orangutan.
As a child, I couldn't understand why my hair colour made me a target for wisecracks. It wasn't necessarily done to be disagreeable. At times, it seemed to be a reflex action.