I doubt many people reading this have much sympathy for Prince Harry, but spare a thought for those who have become the collateral damage in all the Harry hate: his fellow redheads.
Our precarious fortunes seem to be pegged to the popularity of the most famous male member of our kind. When Harry was loved, people would tell me that he was the ‘only ginger they fancied’, but now that he’s in the doldrums, his hair colour is spat out with scorn. It’s often the first thing people attack about him. Nasty comments about red hair are nothing new. But since the whole ‘Ginge and Whinge’ phenomenon, I’ve heard more negative comments about red hair, in the media and just in ordinary conversation, than I ever have previously. That is certainly not the same for any other hair colour of a controversial figure. In Harry’s case, his hair only seems to add insult to injury.
Francois Mauriceau, writing in 1688, warned in The Diseases of Women with Child that red-haired wet nurses were to be avoided because they were ‘amorous’ and loved to drink wine, which soured their milk
I am curious, what is it about red hair? Is it the bright colour itself which can be polarising to the eye, or is it as J.K. Rowling has said, not so much malignant as maligned? Some say it stems from historic prejudice towards the Irish and the Scots, others have linked it to a medieval fear of witches, who were often thought to have red hair. The Malleus Maleficarum (Hammer of the Witches), written by a German Catholic clergyman in 1486, warned that witches could be identified by their red hair and green eyes. A French doctor, Francois Mauriceau, writing in 1688, warned in The Diseases of Women with Child that red-haired wet nurses were to be avoided because they were ‘amorous’ and loved to drink wine, which soured their milk. The redheaded femme fatale is a common trope.
Of course, red hair has its detractors, but it also has its fans. The Pre-Raphaelites and Titian beautifully portrayed copper tresses. We also have our icons (mostly female): Boudicca, Elizabeth I, Henry VIII, Katharine Hepburn, Rita Hayworth, Christina Hendricks and, of course, Prince Harry.
Both my children have red hair. They didn’t inherit my husband’s raven locks. He’s the odd one out in our family. In public, along with our tangerine cocker spaniel, we resemble the Weasley family. We get a lot of attention that is both nice and a little unsettling. It usually goes something like this: ‘Their hair is so beautiful. They’ll be bullied at school, you know.’ Bullying, however, doesn’t worry me too much. If there is one thing the Holdsworths are good at, it’s handling bullies. My mother still likes to tell the story of how she knocked two bullies’ heads together as a schoolgirl when they barged into her in the corridor. My strawberry blonde brother’s philosophy on bullies was quite simple: if a bully comes up to you, slap them. No one’s coming back for a slap every day. Kids are often taught it’s good to be kind, but if you are red-haired, it helps to be tough too. Perhaps this is where the stereotype of the fiery redhead comes from.
It’s difficult to get to the heart of society’s mixed attitude to red hair. It’s true that it is widely teased, but it never rises to the level of genuine prejudice or persecution. At least not in my experience anyway. Many of the carrot-topped that I know were often popular at school, well-liked as adults and have married well, as my grandmother would say.
As a redhead you always have to act like you’re in on the joke, a rictus grin affixed to your face even if it’s not always that funny. No one likes a whining ginger, as Harry has unwittingly demonstrated. It’s not hard to see how some could develop a complex. People do worry about their children being born with red hair. Mostly, because they are afraid of teasing, a sad sentiment I’ve heard from many redheads themselves who often dread passing the colour on.
But as I always say, red hair is an excellent people filter. you’ll always attract interesting, unusual people who like something a bit different, not easily swayed by conventional opinions. It’s a gift really.
Comments