A litte O.T.Tea?

I love a good cup of tea as much as the next true Brit, but flicking through this month's issue of Harper's Bazaar I spotted something that immediately caught my eye:

NO Touchy

The thing about red hair that I do not understand is that fact that people one minute will be ridiculing you with some generic joke about carrots or simply the word ‘ginger’ injected with a tone of mockery or distain, and then the next some overly curious, spatially unaware freak will be reaching out and touching the ‘beautiful’ locks that cause so much controversy.

What is it about ginger hair that makes people act like they are in some kind of asylum? (If you haven’t seen copper cab on You-tube I suggest you tune in..)

I understand the stigma attached effects quite a lot of flame topped people but I, more than  anything, have the delight of many a person trying to touch my fiery locks.

On many an occasion I have had the compliment of people, sometimes without any thought of dissuasion, trying to stroke my hair, the most memorable being a slightly deranged woman grasping my hair in her delicate fingers as I sat alone, for 14 hours, in Geneva airport, which as you can guess was a hoot and a half.

But today it was topped as I was walking down the high street in broad bloody daylight, a man who resembled any normal upstanding citizen came towards me, arms outstretched, eyes slightly glazed and quite unashamedly ran his hand across my head.

I had to decide whether to acknowledge this invasion maybe inciting even more curiosity from said upstanding member or just carry on without a flinch.

I carried on with violated head held high.

Whatever is said having red hair has its perks hey.