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Nearly every guy you encounter in a social setting opens with the same two questions: "Is that your natural hair color?" or "Is it the same color...down there?" Although people in general never put much worth in the color of someone's pubic hairs, you have learned through your redhead experiences that apparently men care A LOT about the hue of your pubes, so long as they're red.


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Everyone wants a cool nickname, but if you're a redhead, you're calling card is going to be "red" or "ginger," two nicknames that couldn't be adorable if they tried. From your co-ed kickball team to the CVS cashier, you're going to be called "red" or "ginger," and you're not going to like it. 


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Regardless of your feelings on the Disney Princesses, you will always be Ariel. Always. Yes, the half-fish with a hoarding issue who was probably abused by her suspiciously muscular father (Triton looks good for a 40-billion year old sea king). No one cares if you really identify with Belle, or that Mulan resonates with your inner feminist. You have red hair. You're Ariel. Get over it.  


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Much like the Slutty Redhead or the Bitchy Redhead, the Feisty Redhead has become an everyday archetype of our society. Coworkers, friends, strangers in a bar--they are all expecting you to just lose your shit over the smallest thing. Maybe redheads do have a lower tolerance for BS, but that's only because we're tired of being asked, "so...have you seen that 'South Park' episode when--" YES. YES I HAVE SEEN IT. AND NO I'M NOT A DAYWALKER. AND YES IT WAS HILARIOUS. 


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Being a redhead is a coveted thing, as it is so rare and seemingly shrouded in myth. When a blonde or brunette dyes her hair red, she has this false belief that she suddenly understands what it is to be a redhead, that she has that redhead fire, that she's feistier and sexier and....Stop. Just stop it. Until you have to reapply 150 SPF every 15 minutes INDOORS, then we'll talk. 



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Oh, is it Halloween? Are you super excited to show off your sexy Katniss Everdeen get-up, complete with real arrows? Well, too bad, Red. You can be Annie, Pippie Longstocking, or Ginger Rabbit. Those are your choices. So, an orphan, or an orphan with a monkey, or a slutty rabbit. That's it. 


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   Redheads are often asked if they would ever date or hook up with another redhead. No one ever questions the pairing of two blonde beauties, but if it's two redheads, it's like the pinnacle of the freak parade. Because the coital union of two redheads does open a portal to another universe, you automatically can't date and/or marry Michael C. Hall, Ed Sheeran, my friend Kasey, and many more. 


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If there is one group of people most mystified by the redhead, it would be hairdressers. How many times has your hairdresser asked to keep locks of your hair so he or she could try to match that when dying? How many times have you overheard a fellow salon customer say, "I want that color!" while pointing at you like you're some kind of zoo animal? I am sure you, like me, avoid salons like they're the devil...because they basically are. 


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Every time a business, school, or organization you're a part of needs to send some kind of mailer, from Christmas cards to appointment reminders, there will be a photo on it with a diverse group of smiling, happy people: all ethnicities well-represented, except...no redheads. The frizzy hair, the freckles, the albino skin: They all add up to that off-putting look most press photos tend to avoid. You will forever be left out of the sample grouping, and it is a very lonely feeling.  


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Redheads have a very specific complexion, and they need to be careful when wearing colors like navy blue, grey, or yellow--and by "be careful" I mean never EVER wear them. This is a common struggle for redheads. Sometimes you just want to wear a yellow sundress and walk in a field of sunflowers, but you're going to look sickly and washed out while doing it. I'm guessing "Jaundice" is not the look you're going for, but that's what you're going to get.