I wish I was ginger. My father and his two brothers were, so were both their parents and my mother's grandmother and they've passed it on to both my sons, missing my generation completely. I wish I was ginger because I now think it's the best hair colour in every way, and also because I know that not everyone sees it that way and I want to be able to support my boys.
If you want to know how deep the prejudice against red hair runs, you don't have to look far. When my older son, Louis, was about a year old, I was talking to my sister, Victoria, then pregnant with her first. "Do you know what it's going to be?" I asked her excitedly. "No, but we don't care," she said, "as long as it's not ginger."
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