I t's not the hair that turns men on, it's the spirit that redheads exude. Angela Carter once wrote about Marilyn Monroe that it was her "bruisability" that attracted men (and women); for redheads it's their woundability. The feelings of being plump and freckly and ugly and the memories of boys yelling "carrot-top," "fire-crotch" and the rest never leave a redhead. As children, we were sorry freaks. We weren't asked to dance. People gawked at us. Adults felt pity for us. It sucked.