Supporting the Melanin-Bereft Redhead Community
Laughing in the Face of Sunburn
Hey there, fellow humans with exceptionally brightly colored hair! It’s time to stand united in the shade and throw some love towards the most marginalized group in history — the melanin-bereft redhead community. Yes, we’ve been tragically ignored, disadvantaged, and persecuted for our unique glow-in-the-dark charm.
First off, let’s drop those common assumptions and micro-aggressions.
Saying a sunny day is “nice” is practically oppressing us UV-averse souls. And don’t even get us started on planning outdoor events between 8 am and 6 pm — that’s like scheduling a marathon in molten lava for us.
And for the love of Julianne Moore’s radiant hair, don’t tokenize us by assuming we’re all descendants of Irish or Scottish royalty. Pretend we’re from Narnia if you have to — just don’t assume. And, hey, we loved The Breakfast Club for its deep characterization, not just because Molly Ringwald rocked our hair color.
Let’s steer clear of mentioning Prince Harry, or we might need a support group for our deeply mixed feelings about him. And please, no albino jokes — our lack of a tan doesn’t make us albinos. We’re just really good at making albinos look sun-kissed.
Now, if we hint at spray tans, hold back that dismissive laughter. If we’ve already embraced the faux glow, your allyship shines brightest through supportive silence.
But hey, we’re not just a bunch of fair-skinned complainers; we’re happy, fun-loving (if not sun-loving) folks. Embrace our culture by recognizing our celebrity patrons, like Julianne Moore and Lindsay Lohan for the ladies and Conan and Canelo for the gents. And let’s be clear — Oompa Loompas are not part of our community, so zip it.
Politically speaking, join us in the fight for subsidized sun protection.
Sunscreen poverty must end, and we demand an SPF 500 range because, well, our pale skin deserves nothing less. And how about some affirmative action in the Olympics? One redhead-dedicated spot in each 100m sprint final, held at night, of course.
And to all you concerned allies, relax, telling Jessica Chastain and Bryce Dallas Howard apart is a skill few possess.
Lastly, language matters. Stick to “redhead” or “exceptionally brightly colored-hair person.” Flamehead, Coppertop, Carrot top, or Ginger? Nope, those are as outdated as dial-up internet. And seriously, can we just stop with the carpet/curtain/drapes talk? Fire crotch and Fanta pants? Really? Let’s leave those in the past where they belong, along with shoulder pads and mullets.