Once You Go Red, You Don't Go Back...

I'm kinda addicted to having red hair.  The first time I ever went red was back in the summer of '08.  Growing up, I'd always gravitated toward and envied the tresses of copper- and scarlet-haired characters.

The Little Mermaid. Wilma Flinstone.  Jessica Rabbit.  Rose from Titanic.  Satine from Moulin Rouge.  

I idolized all of those leading ladies and their lovely crimson locks.  

Then I read Perfume: The Story of  Murderer by Patrick Suskind.  And watched the movie.  That really spurred it on.  One of the characters (above) has thee most gorgeous curly coppery hair.  That movie definitely inspired me to let one of my friends dye my hair red.  And, well, I was hooked.

Surprisingly, the color just worked with my fair complexion... even brightening it.

And it really brought out my green eyes.  

"You'd better lather up in sun screen with that red hair of yours!"

my friend's mother told me once, not realizing it was dyed.  

On numerous occasions I've been asked if I have Danish background because of my red hair and last name. (I didn't know red hair was a Danish thing... but whatev... heh.)

A couple years back I went brown again.  It was depressing.

Brown hair just reeeeally washed out my complexion.  I pretty much regretted it right away.

I grew it out, went back to my natural blondish brown for a bit,

and even let myself get a little tan last summer.

Then last fall I started dabbling in the reds again.  I just can't help it.  It feels most me.  

And I like having an excuse to maintain my soft, un-sun-scorched ivory skin. ;)

Sure, there are some sacrifices that come with the territory of red hair.

I shy away from pink shirts because I feel like a Strawberry Shortcake doll.

And wearing orange makes me feel like a... well, pumpkin.

I loooove wearing blue, red, green, white, or black with red hair though.

Simple put: having red hair makes me happy.

(Even though whenever I dye it... it looks like someone got murdered in my bathroom.)