The Scarlett Letters - News

I Vote: YES, Please!

scarlett@thescarlettletters.com (Scarlett) — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 10:28:10 -0500

On a lighter note – the political conventions.

I will refrain from thoughts on the speeches made, views espoused and promises undertaken and leave that genre of commentary to those eminently more qualified than myself (though I’m quite pissed at that whole “can she be the Vice President AND a mother” statement. A comment that should infuriate any women who has ever called herself a feminist – but that’s a topic for another post).

But what NO ONE is talking about – what NO ONE has brought up – what NO ONE has thought to mention…perhaps the most important factor in this election…..right up there with world peace and starving children:

McCain’s sons (Jimmy & Jack) are HOT!! I noticed them during last night’s news coverage. Watch out Prince William & Harry – these boys might just have you beat! And yes, they’re a tad young for moi, however….SO cute! Then again, I seem to be on a “men in uniform” kick as of late.

So for your information and edification :

Jack is 22 and is attending his fourth (1st Class) year at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland. He hopes to become a naval aviator. He was born and raised in Arizona and attended Phoenix Country Day Elementary and Brophy College Preparatory High School. He enjoys amateur car racing and has built his own race car. He competes in Drift racing and recently took his Mom with him in the passenger seat during a race.

Jim is 20 and a Private First Class in the Marine Corps. He was born in Phoenix, Arizona and attended Christ Lutheran Elementary School and Brophy College Preparatory High School. His lifelong dream was to become a Marine. He is an avid reader and often shares books with his father.

Frankly, these are the IMPORTANT issues, kids - and we should ALL strive to be more informed!

Frankly,

Vogue Gets a Little Bit Hotter

scarlett@thescarlettletters.com (Scarlett) — Wed, 20 Aug 2008 10:55:40 -0500

It's been awhile since I've done one of these - but it was so good, I just couldn't resist! Enjoy!

A New Flame: Revenge of the Carrot Tops

Last Updated: 12:01am BST 06/08/2008

After centuries in the cold, redheads are suddenly a hot commodity, says Hannah Betts

Notice anything curious about the cover of September's Vogue? Beautiful girl, check; Prada frock, tick; enthusiastic lipstick scrawl singing "Glorious!" So far, so Condé Nast. And then comes the realization: Mother of God, the beautiful girl in question has red hair and is thus - according to the savage logic of the playground - a "ginger nut" or a "Duracell". She's a "carrot top".

Flaming heck: Karen Elson is only the seventh redhead to grace the cover of Vogue

Seeing red at redheads has been cited as Britain's last socially acceptable form of bigotry - and not without foundation. Even the ravishing Karen Elson, the beauty who graces the magazine's frontage, was known as "Le Freak" on entering the industry, and "fake model" at school where her peers were incredulous that she could earn money from her appearance.

Statistics from Vogue House confirm that this is only the seventh occasion a woman with russet hair has graced its cover since 1970. Despite the need for Italian Vogue's consciousness-raising all-black issue this July, there have still been more British Vogue covers featuring black women than Titian-haired ones. Yet red-headed people make up between four and 13 per cent of the population - depending upon where one looks in the United Kingdom - while the black population hovers at just under two per cent.

Alexandra Shulman's editor's letter smacks somewhat of justification. She notes that Elson's "pale beauty and flaming hair make her a vivid figurehead for this distinctive season"; surely the fashion equivalent of getting to play a tree in an autumnal school play.

Evolutionary psychology suggests that gingers are shunned because they are a minority - pack mentality dictating that those who are different should be ostracised. Despite red hair being a staple of children's fiction - Anne of Green Gables, Pippi Longstocking, Little Orphan Annie - historically it has been perceived as diabolical. Judas Iscariot, Mary Magdalene and Salome have all been depicted as carrot tops, while the pairing of red hair and green eyes was thought to denote a witch, werewolf, or vampire.

advertisementIt's unsurprising, then, that for every proud flame-thrower - a Tilda Swinton, Julianne Moore, or Gillian Anderson - there is a Lindsay Lohan, Nicole Kidman or Geri Halliwell itching to douse their locks with peroxide.

The Celtic Tudors may have fostered a century-long trend for strawberry blonde tresses. However, our own Prince Harry was picked on for his colouring at school, and has been over-looked in the swoon stakes - despite being considerably better looking than the heir to which he is spare.

That said, he has obviously fared better than the Chapmans, the Newcastle family who found fame in 2007 for being forced to relocate three times in three years because of their colouring - provoking the local council to suggest they take to the (L'Oréal) bottle. Despite a proud legacy that numbers Boudicca, Oliver Cromwell, and Winston Churchill as fellow members, comedian Catherine Tate's sketch in which ginger outcasts are forced to seek solace in a refuge would appear to be not far from the mark.

The red-headed reputation for being hot-tempered and hypersensitive to pain may be because they get such a raw deal. By comparison, blondes - Vogue's preferred colour for its cover girls - are thought to be attractive because they resemble children. Hair darkens as we hit puberty, thus fairness is associated with innocence, the tow-haired vulnerability of youth. And, where there is vulnerability, so there will be those that seek to exploit it, viz Alfred Hitchock's remark: "Blondes make the best victims. They're like virgin snow that shows up the bloody footprints." If this is the kind of fun that blondes get to have more of, then there are many of us who will be entirely happy chugging along under a cloud of murky, sludgy brown.

For where redheads get to be the victimised minority, and blondes life's attention seekers, so brunettes boast locks that qualify them as normal human beings.

Last week, it was reported that a survey of 3,000 women by colourists Schwarzkopf & Henkel found that, on average, brunettes earn £4,250 more per annum than golden girls. It also found that those with chestnut tresses are 10 per cent more sexually successful than blondes. And they have featured on more Vogue covers than one might expect: the blonde-brunette cover-girl ratio being a mere 60:40 over the last 40 years.

And so to the burning issue: will Elson's immortalisation prompt a rash of imitators? For the truly voguish mane, will red indeed be on fire this season? Certainly, Bottega Veneta, Chloé, Celine, Sisley, Tiffany and Miu Miu's new autumn campaigns all feature flaming heroines. But those tempted may wish to consider further Schwarzkopf & Henkel research. While red is the hue that the majority of colour chameleons initially opt to embrace, the brand also discovered that it is the shade they ditch the fastest, after an average of merely two years. Still, that's a few seasons longer than most fashion trends.

Information appearing on telegraph.co.uk is the copyright of Telegraph Media Group Limited and must not be reproduced in any medium without license. For the full copyright statement see Copyright

No News is…FUCKING FRUSTRATING

scarlett@thescarlettletters.com (Scarlett) — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 10:44:25 -0500

The BBC – is the ONLY television news service I seem to be able to stomach these days. It is the only channel that isn’t giving updates of hurricane Dolly every twelve seconds (its raining, its windy – we get it already!) I mean seriously, what is there to be gained from the blurred images projected through rain soaked and wind pummeled lenses?

I seriously hope they find the poor little two year old that’s missing, but really – do I NEED a visual tour of her room? I HAVE to listen to another update with her lunatic grandmother screaming at reporters?

And if I have to see ONE MORE IMAGE of Barak O’Bama in a Yamaka touring the West Bank, I’m going to SCREAM. (Don’t get me wrong, every hoarse, strained, mundane speech given by his Republican counterpart is less than inspiring.). But you’d think this were Nixon going into Communist China or Regan stepping foot into Russia for the first time since Tsarist Russia the way this diplomatic cabaret has been celebrated and covered. It's reminicent of Eva Peron's equally celebrated: Rainbow Tour. (Sing it with me now!)

And at the risk of sounding US-centric and thus opening the door to being verbally throttled – why do we care who the Europeans (Germany and France in particular) want to be our next president?? Because the last time I checked the United States has both kicked and saved their asses, respectively - twice, within the past century. Since when has the election for the American Presidency taken on the pallor of global opinion?

I understand – strategically - the need to visually inject the steroid of foreign policy and/or diplomatic experience into the aspiring candidate’s resume. However, I can’t ignore the fact that the entire spectacle is making me ill.

Thank GOD for the BBC.

Frankly,

On a more positive note: It is the most fucking GEORGOUS morning I can remember in a LONG time. The breeze cooled by the night rain, the only traces of humidity left by the storms seem to be the puddles on the ground, the sky serving as a muse for Crayola blue. Sigh. Just beautiful.

An Ideal Husband

scarlett@thescarlettletters.com (Scarlett) — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 11:01:00 -0500

Continuing on the theme of relationship “experts” and their enthusiastic willingness to share prescriptions for perpetual relationship bliss.

I love how all of these startling revelations about successful relationship are now beginning to surface like mathematical truths or freshly unearthed archeological discoveries. Not that I can claim even a single credential that would qualify me as an “expert” in any field whatsoever, with the possible exception of shoe shopping or Angry Girl music circa 1996.

Never having successfully navigated a relationship longer than the gestational period of a Costa Rican Howler Monkey, my relationship track record wouldn’t qualify me to work the supply room in a Hallmark store, let alone espouse “expert” relationship advice. However, “expert” or not, the following article parrots many of the credos I faithfully espouse to my wonderful, if occasionally romantically delusional friends.

It should be noted that as a rule, I faithfully read Ms. Dowd’s editorial works in the New York Times. While I always find her writing style to be brilliantly composed, I seldom find myself nodding along in agreement as I hold political opinions laying on the opposing spectrum. However, this poses little problems as the artistry of Ms. Dowd’s works do not lay within her overall arguments but rather in the craftsmanship of the prose and her mastery over the English language.

This week, I was pleasantly surprised to find myself in startlingly staunch agreement with the red headed editorial maven. However, the fact that some, if not most of these pearls of wisdom will remain unheeded by starry-eyed, romantic hopefuls the world over, is indeed still troubling.

July 6, 2008

Op-Ed Columnist

An Ideal Husband

By MAUREEN DOWD

This weekend, we celebrate our great American pastime: messy celebrity divorces.

There’s the Christie Brinkley/Peter Cook fireworks on Long Island and the Madonna/Guy Ritchie/A-Rod Roman candle in New York.

So how do you avoid a relationship where you end up saying, “The man who I was living with, I just didn’t know who he was” — as Brinkley did in court when talking about her husband’s $3,000-a-month Internet porn and swinger site habit? (Not to mention the 18-year-old mistress/assistant.)

Father Pat Connor, a 79-year-old Catholic priest born in Australia and based in Bordentown, N.J., has spent his celibate life — including nine years as a missionary in India — mulling connubial bliss. His decades of marriage counseling led him to distill some “mostly common sense” advice about how to dodge mates who would maul your happiness.

“Hollywood says you can be deeply in love with someone and then your marriage will work,” the twinkly eyed, white-haired priest says. “But you can be deeply in love with someone to whom you cannot be successfully married.”

For 40 years, he has been giving a lecture — “Whom Not to Marry” — to high school seniors, mostly girls because they’re more interested.

“It’s important to do it before they fall seriously in love, because then it will be too late,” he explains. “Infatuation trumps judgment.”

I asked him to summarize his talk:

“Never marry a man who has no friends,” he starts. “This usually means that he will be incapable of the intimacy that marriage demands. I am always amazed at the number of men I have counseled who have no friends. Since, as the Hebrew Scriptures say, ‘Iron shapes iron and friend shapes friend,’ what are his friends like? What do your friends and family members think of him? Sometimes, your friends can’t render an impartial judgment because they are envious that you are beating them in the race to the altar. Envy beclouds judgment.

“Does he use money responsibly? Is he stingy? Most marriages that founder do so because of money — she’s thrifty, he’s on his 10th credit card.

“Steer clear of someone whose life you can run, who never makes demands counter to yours. It’s good to have a doormat in the home, but not if it’s your husband.

“Is he overly attached to his mother and her mythical apron strings? When he wants to make a decision, say, about where you should go on your honeymoon, he doesn’t consult you, he consults his mother. (I’ve known cases where the mother accompanies the couple on their honeymoon!)

“Does he have a sense of humor? That covers a multitude of sins. My mother was once asked how she managed to live harmoniously with three men — my father, brother and me. Her answer, delivered with awesome arrogance, was: ‘You simply operate on the assumption that no man matures after the age of 11.’ My father fell about laughing.

“A therapist friend insists that ‘more marriages are killed by silence than by violence.’ The strong, silent type can be charming but ultimately destructive. That world-class misogynist, Paul of Tarsus, got it right when he said, ‘In all your dealings with one another, speak the truth to one another in love that you may grow up.’

“Don’t marry a problem character thinking you will change him. He’s a heavy drinker, or some other kind of addict, but if he marries a good woman, he’ll settle down. People are the same after marriage as before, only more so.

“Take a good, unsentimental look at his family — you’ll learn a lot about him and his attitude towards women. Kay made a monstrous mistake marrying Michael Corleone! Is there a history of divorce in the family? An atmosphere of racism, sexism or prejudice in his home? Are his goals and deepest beliefs worthy and similar to yours? I remember counseling a pious Catholic woman that it might not be prudent to marry a pious Muslim, whose attitude about women was very different. Love trumped prudence; the annulment process was instigated by her six months later.

“Imagine a religious fundamentalist married to an agnostic. One would have to pray that the fundamentalist doesn’t open the Bible and hit the page in which Abraham is willing to obey God and slit his son’s throat.

“Finally: Does he possess those character traits that add up to a good human being — the willingness to forgive, praise, be courteous? Or is he inclined to be a fibber, to fits of rage, to be a control freak, to be envious of you, to be secretive?

“After I regale a group with this talk, the despairing cry goes up: ‘But you’ve eliminated everyone!’ Life is unfair.”

What Money Can't Buy

scarlett@thescarlettletters.com (Scarlett) — Fri, 11 Apr 2008 12:41:00 -0500

Thus proving that money can't buy taste!

Blondes May Have More Fun, but Brunettes Could Have the Last Laugh - they have a much better chance of bagging a billionaire

Experts checked the hair colours of the worlds 100 richest men and found that 62 percent were brunettes.

Only 22 percent of the worlds biggest billionaires was married to a blonde and 16 percent a raven-haired woman ... none were married to a redhead.

Sam Kayum, director of Lycos who commissioned the research said: 'It begs the question whether Carla Bruni would now be the first lady of France if she was a blonde.

"Perhaps Sarkozy felt that, as a brunette, Bruni would be taken more seriously by the voting public."

***********

Brunettes Bag the Billionaires, Blondes get the Barmen

It's official, if you're a brunette like Carla Bruni, you're more likely to marry a successful man than your blonde counterparts. Experts at LOVE@LYCOS the dating channel of Lycos.co.uk analysed the WAG's hair colour of the world's top 100 billionaires to determine if there is a predominant hair colour wealthy men seen to go for. The majority by a long way were brunettes, with 62% of billionaires marrying women with brown hair.

The results went on to show that fair haired ladies come in a poor second with only 22% of the world's top billionaires marrying blondes. Women with black hair lag behind in third place, enticing on 16% of the world's wealthiest, whilst carrot-tops come in last.

BRUNETTES MARRIED TO THE WORLD'S MOST SUCCESSFUL MEN

CARLA BRUNI WIFE OF FRENCH PRESIDENT

DARIA ZHUKOVA GIRLFRIEND OF ABRAMOVICH

SARAH LARSON GIRLFRIEND OF GEORGE CLOONEY

CATHERINE ZETA MARRIED TO MICHAEL DOUGLAS

ANGELINA JOLIE GIRLFRIEND OF BRAD PITT

So with wealthy men showing such a considerable preference for brunettes, it will be interesting to chart the number of women requesting a change of colour at their local hairdresser! (by Sara Hassan)

Redheads Invade NYC! (Happy St. Paddy's Day!)

scarlett@thescarlettletters.com (Scarlett) — Mon, 17 Mar 2008 13:15:06 -0500

Happy St. Patrick's Day!! While I'm still piecing together the events of Saturday afternoon, please feast your eyes on all these GEORGOUS redheads!

Slainte,

Red (Spot)Light: Redhead Gathering in NYC

scarlett@thescarlettletters.com (Scarlett) — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 08:26:42 -0600

Hundreds of Redheads to Gather In Rockefeller Plaza For St. Patrick's Day 2008

Hundreds of Redheads will gather in Rockefeller plaza in New York City this St. Patrick's Day, March 17th, 2008, to show their Irish and red haired pride in front of New York City's St. Patrick's Day revelers as well as seven million Today Show Viewers.

New York, NY (PRWEB) March 5, 2008 -- On March 17th, St. Patrick's Day 2008, the largest gathering of Redheads ever to be held in the United States will descend on Rockefeller Plaza in New York City for a showing of Redhead and Irish pride of a size and intensity never before seen.

All Redheads and Redhead aficionados are welcome to join the crowd in the plaza just outside the studios of the Today Show where they will cheer and chant and wave and shout and for the cameras and seven million home viewers. The event begins at 7:30 am EST with prize giveaways from Redhead social network Redhedd.com. The cameras will roll some time soon thereafter.

Redhead pride is surging in the United States thanks to the efforts of Redheads concerned with the fate of the gene responsible for red hair, Melanocortin-1, rumored to face extinction within the next hundred years.

"I take the possibility of extinction rather personally." says Redhedd.com founder Steve Warrington, "So, true or not, it's just too important to leave to chance." Based on the prospected turnout, it seems that many of his Redheaded comrades share that sentiment.

With 10% of the population of Ireland proudly sporting red hair, St. Patrick's Day is an ideal opportunity to stand up and shout for the Redhead cause. Whether you're there in the plaza showing your true color, or viewing from home, St. Patrick's Day 2008 promises to be an event long-remembered among Redheads.

If you'd like to attend, or would like to know more about the event, visit the Redhedd.com events page: http://www.redhedd.com/event/view/id_8/

See you there.

Shocked - and Dismayed - and OH MY GOD!

scarlett@thescarlettletters.com (Scarlett) — Tue, 22 Jan 2008 17:00:21 -0600

Actor Heath Ledger Is Found Dead

By Sewell Chan

The actor Heath Ledger was found dead this afternoon in an apartment building at 421 Broome Street in SoHo, according to the New York City police. Mr. Ledger was 28.

At 3:31 p.m., a masseuse arrived at Apartment 5A in the building for an appointment with Mr. Ledger, the police said. The masseuse was let in to the home by a housekeeper, who then knocked on the door of Mr. Ledger’s bedroom. When no one answered, the housekeeper and the masseuse opened the bedroom and found Mr. Ledger unconscious. They shook him, but he did not respond. They immediately called the authorities. The police said they did not suspect foul play and said they found pills near body.

Mr. Ledger, a native of Perth, Australia, won acclaim for his role as a co-star in “Brokeback Mountain”, a 2005 film. The film, based on a short story by Annie Proulx about two cowboys who fall in love, won critical acclaim. Reviewing the film in The New York Times, the critic Stephen Holden wrote, “Mr. Ledger magically and mysteriously disappears beneath the skin of his lean, sinewy character. It is a great screen performance, as good as the best of Marlon Brando and Sean Penn.”

Calls by The New York Times to Mara Buxbaum, a publicist for Mr. Ledger, and Steve Alexander, the actor’s agent, were not immediately returned this afternoon.

Score one for the Reds

scarlett@thescarlettletters.com (Scarlett) — Fri, 18 Jan 2008 11:47:05 -0600

Just a lazy Friday post to say 'congrats' to the newest addition to the redheaded ranks! Her song L.O.V.E. is actually my ringtone now :) Congrats, Ashlee!

You never looked so good, darlin'!

Underneath the Mistletoe Last Night

scarlett@thescarlettletters.com (Scarlett) — Mon, 24 Dec 2007 14:45:06 -0600

So my grand idea to survive the holidays as a single woman … (wait for it…) take full advantage of the situation and always have plenty mistletoe on hand…ya know, just in case some tall dark and handsome friend of the family who’s been secretly pining away for you for years happens to show up at your aunt’s Christmas party because he heard you were newly available. Yes, I still believe in Santa!

So that lead me to thinking – what makes this little plant so ….aphrodisiatic? (yes, I made up that word). (And please keep in mind that this is one of those posts written after about three glasses of Zin, so please bear with me…(after all – how else do you propose I get through the holidays in one piece?)

What are the origins of the mistletoe? Why have generations of us either been trapped or ensnared others to succumb to our own physical affections because of a little plant? Either willingly or begrudgingly? Where did it all start? And could we perhaps extend this tradition throughout the year with say….daisies or roses, or shrubberies (if you’re a Monty Python fan) any common garden variety plant would work, really – anything you may conveniently hang and dry in your homes. I mean, a girl should be kissed regularly regardless of the season!

But sadly, ‘tis not the case. And ‘tis the season for this little plant (which, is actually a parasite – ironic and somehow fitting, isn’t it?). And so, without further ado, for your edification and education – and just because I’ve been celebrating a bit too much at the office Christmas party – here are there origins of the mistletoe tradition – spreading mononucleosis the world over.

Merry Christmas, my dear, dear readers. And a big mistletoe kiss to all, and to all a good night.

Frankly,

KISSING UNDER THE MISTLETOE

Nowadays, mistletoe is commonly used as a Christmas decoration, though allusions to mistletoe as a Christmas green were rare into the eighteenth century. Viscum album is used in Europe whereas Phoradendron serotinum is used in North America. According to a custom of Christmas cheer, any two people who meet under a hanging of mistletoe are obliged to kiss. The custom is British rather than Scandinavian in origin.

According to custom, the mistletoe must not touch the ground between its cutting and its removal as the last of Christmas greens at Candlemas; mistletoe might remain hung through the year, often to preserve the house from lightning or fire, until it was replaced the following Christmas Eve.The tradition has spread throughout the English-speaking world but is largely unknown in the rest of Europe. The appearance and nature of the fruit's content (viscin) is very similar or suggestive of human semen and this has strengthened its pagan connections.

Using the mistletoe to kiss under has even become incorporated into various holiday songs. The 1943 song I'll Be Home for Christmas tells the story of a lonely traveler looking forward to coming home and seeing, among other things, mistletoe. The Mistletoe is mentioned in the song "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire" ("The Christmas Song"), made famous by Nat King Cole, and written by Mel Torme. The song "A Holly Jolly Christmas" sung by Burl Ives, and used for the TV special "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer", features the line, "Ho Ho, the Mistletoe", and the line, "Kiss her once for me". In 1961 singer Aretha Franklin released a Christmas song called Kissin' by the Mistletoe. In 1971 singer Lynn Anderson recorded the song Mr. Mistletoe on her holiday album The Christmas Album. The song talks about an elf who hangs mistletoe in homes so that people can "steal a kiss from someone that they know". In 2001 Barbra Streisand released the song It Must Have Been the Mistletoe.

IN CULTURE AND MYTHOLOGY

Mistletoe figured prominently in Norse mythology: the god Baldur was killed with a weapon made of mistletoe. Mistletoe bears fruit at the time of the Winter Solstice, the birth of the new year, and may have been used in solstitial rites in Druidic Britain.

In Celtic mythology and in Druid rituals, it was considered an antidote to poison, but it is now known that the fruits of many mistletoes are poisonous if ingested, as they contain viscotoxins.

A Christian tradition says that mistletoe was once a tree, and furnished the wood of the Cross. After the Crucifixion, the plant shriveled and became dwarfed to a parasitic vine.

In Romanian traditions, mistletoe (vâsc in Romanian) is considered a source of good fortune. The medical and the supposed magical properties of the plant are still used, especially in rural areas.

Mistletoe has sometimes been nicknamed the vampire plant because it can probe beneath the tree bark to drain water and minerals, enabling it to survive during a drought. William Shakespeare gives it an unflattering reference in Titus Andronicus, Act II, Scene I: "Overcome with moss and baleful mistletoe".

Mistletoe is the state floral emblem for the State of Oklahoma. The state did not have an official flower, leaving the Mistletoe as the assumed state flower until the Oklahoma Rose was designated as such in 2004.

In a popular myth, confusing Mistletoe and the Holly 'holy' Tree, the most sacred tree of the Druids, it is said that Mistletoe was cut with a gold sickle and it lost its power if it fell and touched the ground. The confusion arises from both plants being green all year and both having colorful fruits as well as sharing similar history concerning the winter months.

The Bra: An 'Uplifting' History

scarlett@thescarlettletters.com (Scarlett) — Mon, 01 Oct 2007 08:15:00 -0500

I have a love/hate relationship with my breasts – and really, what woman doesn’t?

If they’re too small, you wear falsies or padding – if you’re sporting DD’s you sometimes curse the day you were born a woman as you try to find button up shirts that don’t gap, sports bras that actually allow you to run sans pain and under wire that doesn’t poke you in the chest. And while the perks include, unlimited attention and the occasional drink, they might lead to conversations ending in such phrases as “umm…my face is up HERE”, “they’re not going to talk back, you know” or my personal favorite – “you won’t be meeting them later, so you can stop talking to them now.”

But love them or hate them, large or small – we (women) have them and throughout history, both men and women have implemented “uplifting” ideas in support of “the girls”. So I’m going to ‘snap to it’ and provide you with a cup full of tidbits about the history of the modern-day over-the-shoulder bolder holder – that turned 100 last week**

A SNAPPY HISTORY

2500 BC Back in 2500 B.C., warrior Minoan women on the Greek isle of Crete began wearing a bra-resembling garment, shoving their bare breasts upward and exposed their naked breasts from their clothing!

2000 BC The Corset can be traced back to about 2000 BC. It was open at the front to the waist, leaving the breasts uncovered. Small strips of leather round the waist were used to curve round the outline of the breasts.

450BC-285AD The Greeks wore a bodice tied above the breasts, leaving the breasts naked. The wearing of corsets was prohibited so they used "the Apodesme" which was a small band of material wrapped round the breast, largely for functional reasons - to prevent the breasts moving when walking. The Roman women adopted the apodesme as worn by the Greeks, but the name was changed to "mamillare", "fascia" etc. Young women wore the fascia to prevent the growth of their breasts whilst the mamillare was used to conceal a very large breast.

4th Century AD The Chemise first appeared in the 4th century, was made of linen and looked like a tunic. The Chemise was gathered into a round or square neckline. It was frequently embroidered and finished with a frill. At that time they usually had long sleeves and were finished with wrist ruffles.

In France women wore the "Bandeau" after Caesar's conquest of Gaul. In the 12th century women wore the "basquine" which was a sort of corset in rigid fabric surrounding the waist. About a century later the gourgandine (hussy) or bodice is worn on top of a corset.

13th Century AD In the 13th century, women were wearing short bodices that flattened the breasts. Full skirts were attached to raised waistlines to emphasize the stomach. To further emphasize a slender torso, garments had long full sleeves. The purpose was to draw the eye down and away from the breasts. In the 13th century one can read for the first time, in a corsetry shop window, reference to products that - "contain the larger one, supports the weak, gathers the floppy".

14th Century AD Breasts were de-emphasized even further in the 14th century by straight tubular bodices that completely flattened the breasts. Wide full skirts and high ruffled collars drew attention away from the breasts. In the 14th century the belt was worn to support the bust but was not widely worn as it was outlawed in certain parts of France. An edict of Strasbourg dated 1370 states - "no woman will support the bust by the disposition of a blouse or by tightened dress". Under Charles VII the bust is dressed in a triangular drape and by a tight gauze. The corset was worn very tightly and damage was caused to the wearer.

1550s AD In the 1550's women subjected themselves to the torture of whalebone and steel rod corsets. The steel corset is attributed to the wife of King Henri II of France, Catherine de Médicis, who banned "thick waists" at court attendances. The corset was designed to be worn tightly, requiring a lot of effort to fasten. It could reduce the waist to less than ten inches, permanently altering the waist size. The corset then became dominant undergarment (in various designs) of support and restraint for the next 350 years.

15th Century AD The 15th century saw breasts becoming a focal point. Bodices and stiffened stays covered and flattened the lower part of the breasts and nipples, whilst pushing up the upper breast. This created cleavage and gave the appearance of high and rounded breasts.

16th Century AD During the Renaissance Period, women stuffed the chest portions of their undergarments with silk pouches and hankies, binding them in place as well as could be expected to create an alluring bustline. Since there was nothing much to hold the pouches exactly where they should have been, there was a tendency for them to shift into laughable positions.

17th Century AD Whilst men had worn washable underwear since ancient times, it was not until the 17th century that drawers were worn by women in France and Italy but it was the early 1800's before they arrived in England "drawers" comes from a lower body undergarment that could be "drawn on". Drawers were often made up as two separate legs only attached at the waist. Crotch-less drawers were a practicality since they were worn under the corset and chemise. The legs finished just below the knee or at mid-calf and were finished either plain or fancy.

1820s A "corset mecanique" was actually invented in the 1820s which allowed women to squeeze into their corsets with the help of pulleys, without having to use the servants. Corsets at the time were made of whalebone, steel or buckram.

1850s US patents registered for first known bra-like devices.

Corsets fall out of style for about 10 years.

1860s Corsets come back in fashion with a vengeance. Severe corset "training" is common which reduces waists to such unhealthy levels that ribs and internal organs become deformed. Controversy over corseting health risks ensues.

1867 The "Thompson Patent Glove-Fitting Corset" of 1867 had a spring latch and snaps at the front, as well as the traditional hooks. The corset was designed to prevent it opening accidentally! The latter years of the 19th Century began to see challenges to the traditional views of the ideal woman, and the painful and unhealthy undergarments that they were expected to wear

1875 In 1875, manufacturers George Frost and George Phelps patented an undergarment called the "Union Under-Flannel". Unlike a corset, it had no bones, eyelets or laces and required no pulleys and was made from wool fabrics. Susan Taylor Convese made improvements to this design.

1877 Combinations, consisting of a chemise and pantaloons were invented about 1877. These were often made in red flannels and were crotch-less for convenience.

1889 Corset-maker Herminie Cadolle invents a bra-like garment called "Bien-être" ('Well-Being'.) Resembling a "Victorian bikini", its main differentiating feature from regular corsets is that the breasts are supported by the shoulders rather than squeezed up from below with traditional corset designs. Although marketed as a health aid beginning in 1889 in a Paris department store ad, the item does not gain widespread notice.

1893 Marie Tucek patents the "Breast Supporter". The garment includes separate pockets for each breast, shoulder straps that passed over the shoulders and fastened with hook and eye closures, making it the earliest known design to be similar to modern-day bras.

1907 Vogue magazine first uses the term "brassiere", which comes from the old French word for 'upper arm'. Before this, bra-like devices were known by another French term "soutien-gorge" (literally, "throat support" or "breast support".)

1912 The term "brassiere" first appears in the Oxford English Dictionary.

1913 Dissatisfied with the idea of having to wear a heavy corset underneath a new sheer evening gown she just bought for a social event, socialite Mary Phelps Jacob of New York and her maid, Marie, devised a backless bra made from two handkerchiefs, some ribbon and cord. Amazingly she started getting orders for it that very night.

1914 After considerable interest from friends, Mary Phelps Jacob applies for a patent (under the business name "Caresse Crosby") on November 3 for her "Backless Brassiere" design, which is basically the same garment that she previously improvised. This "brassiere" was very lightweight, soft, and separated the breasts naturally. Unlike Marie Tucek's 1893 design, Jacob's garment did not have cups to support the breasts, but flattened them instead. Jacob markets the "Backless Brassiere" garment until she tires of the business and sells the patent to Warner Brothers Corset Company in Bridgeport, Connecticut, for $1,500. Warner's reportedly made over 15 million dollars over the next 30 years from the patent.

1914-1918 World War I forces women into the work-force. Many women begin working in factories and wearing uniforms, making the use of daily corset wear a problem.

1917 The U.S. War Industries Board requests women to stop buying corsets to reduce the consumption of metal. Sources say up to 28,000 tons of metal was conserved through this effort - "enough to build two battleships."

1920s The bra gained popularity and began to be used more commonly during the 1920s. This was the era of the "flappers", and the flat-chested boyish look was all the rage. Warner introduces a tight, chest-flattening bra, that was designed to flatten the breasts, rather than support them.

1928 Ida Rosenthal, a Russian immigrant, and her husband William went into business as the Maidenform Company in the 1920's as a protest against the notorious flat-chested flapper girls of the Roaring 20's. Ida is responsible for the creation of bust size categories (cup sizes) and developed bras for every stage of life - puberty to maturity.

Late 1920s By the end of the 1920s corsetry companies began to manufacture brassieres that were boned and stitched into different cup sizes.

1930s It wasn't until the 1930s that shape started to become acceptable again, and the "bra" (a shortened form of the word "brassiere") changed from flattening the breasts, to holding them.

1930s Warner produces the first popular all-elastic bra, which shows off a woman's curves.

1930s It was 1932 before its shape was modified to accentuate the depth of cup. It was greatly improved by the fashion designer, Paul Poiret who even suggested that it be worn next to the skin.

1930s The "sweater-girl" look, portrayed by actress Lana Turner during the 1930s, was the next fashion development, pointed rigid bras that maintained their shape. This was followed by "falsies". These were pads worn inside the bra that were designed to enhance the fullness of the bust. These evolved into the push-up bra, stiffened cups supported by under-wiring.

1935 Warner's creates the cup sizing system (A to D), which becomes the system commonly used by all manufacturers throughout the world.

1941-1945 Common fabric materials (cotton, rubber, silk and steel) are in short supply, so manufacturers turn to synthetic fabrics.

1946 The first bikini swimwear is introduced in Paris.

1950's It was thus that during the 1950s the shape had become most exaggerated. Strapless bras also became popular at this time because of the fashion for off-the-shoulder outfits.

1960's The 1960s saw the women's liberation movement denouncing bras as a symbol of conformity and servitude and encouraging bra burning rallies. The Hippie and free-love movement would see the bra abandoned altogether, resulting in the braless look.

1960's A return to the need for support saw the bra re-emerge after this era. Developments in manufacturing and technology since the 1960s, such as lycra, have seen the materials for bras become increasingly lightweight, durable and elastic.

** All information provided courtesy of the Hot Gossip Bra Shop.

Red (Spot)Light: InTouch Names Hollywood's Hottest Redheads

scarlett@thescarlettletters.com (Scarlett) — Thu, 27 Sep 2007 09:35:00 -0500

It's out! In Touch Magazine has listed their pics for Hollywood's Hottest Redhead!

While I'm thrilled with the singling out of the beautiful silver and small screen redheaded mavens out in Tinsel Town - I must admit, I am a bit shocked by some OBVIOUS omissions in this list!

While there's no denying that Dr. Addison Sheppard (aka Kate Walsh) should sit atop the rankings, I offer the following alternative placements with the original article following below. What do you think, men? Kathy Griffin in favor of Julia Roberts!?!? Um....NO.

Scarlett's list for the title of Hollywood's Hottest Redheads:

Kate Walsh (no argument here)
Li-Lo (obvious choice)
Julia Roberts (H-E-L-L-O!)
Julianne Moore
Nicole Kidman (the oft-blonde will always be a true strawberry in our hearts)
Debra Messing
Marcia Cross
Melinda Clarke (the OC would NOT have been the same without this fiery-haired temptress we all know and love)
Alicia Witt (you may have seen her in the Sopranos, Two Weeks Notice, or Vanilla Sky)
And last, but CERTAINLY not least - Molly Ringwald circa 1989

Actress Kate Walsh has topped a poll of ‘Hollywood’s Hottest Redheads’.

The poll was conducted by entertainment magazine In Touch Weekly. Walsh, a natural blonde, admits that flame-haired women definitely have more fun than their fair-headed or brunette counterparts.

"When I was blonde, they treated me like a girly girl. As a redhead, it was a little more sassy," Contactmusic quoted her, as telling the mag.

Coming in second on the list was Lindsay Lohan, followed by Oscar-winner Nicole Kidman in third place. The top five was rounded off by Debra Messing and Geri Halliwell, who came in fourth and fifth place respectively.

The list for the top ten ‘Hollywood’s Hottest Redheads’, as per In Touch Weekly is:

Kate Walsh
Lindsay Lohan
Nicole Kidman
Debra Messing
Geri Halliwell
Julianne Moore
Kathy Griffin
Marcia Cross
Amy Adams
Isla Fisher

Redhead Revolution

scarlett@thescarlettletters.com (Scarlett) — Fri, 03 Aug 2007 12:34:31 -0500

This little tidbit of strawberry juiciness comes courtsey of Allen (thank you!)

As for me, I'm just trying to suffer through the heat wave and ride out the summer donning my SPF 50 and trying to avoid as much sun damage as possible!

Frankly,

Come On You Reds

When she heard that a Newcastle councillor had recommended a family of ginger children dye their hair to avoid bullying, Louise Crowe decided enough was enough. Here, she reveals why the time is right for a redhead revolution

We're all around you. If you look, you'll see us: on buses, in shops, at the office, in pubs; we are more common in Britain than anywhere in the world. Yet you'll rarely see us on beaches, and you'll be lucky to spot us in direct sunlight during the summer months. We are redheads. You might know us as ginger, or strawberry blond if you're being kind; few of us have passed through life untouched by carrot-top jokes or escaped the muffled laughter induced by our milk-white legs in PE lessons. A large number of us have been followed round playgrounds by gangs of mouse-haired children chanting: 'Tut-tut, ginger nut, where d'ya get your hair cut?' All of us have automatic entry into the only minority group for which discrimination based on skin and hair colour is socially acceptable.

I am the only redhead in my family, but we are all of a pale and freckled complexion and produce a different form of melanin (brown pigment) to that of the tanning population. Ours presents as dense, discrete patches called freckles, which my sister and I spent our teenage years trying to obliterate with Fade Out, the product claiming to rid us of such 'imperfections'. Over the years, I have learnt to love my freckles. As with all redheads, I have endured comments on creating never-ending dot-to-dots across my arms, and far-fetched predictions of the freckles joining together to create the perfect tan, although if you joined together the freckles from all four members of my immediate family, I doubt there would be enough to cover much more than a leg.

I hate the summer. For you, this is the time for short skirts, flip-flops and strapless tops, for becoming significantly more attractive over a few short weeks. For me, it means turning hot and pink, sitting in the shade and, if I forget to reapply my factor 50, getting burnt in my lunch hour. For redheads, our behaviour pattern over the summer months is governed by the sun, or more specifically, by avoiding it.

Growing up in Newcastle, I was one of the lucky ones: we had an ozone layer and the North Sea wind blowing in ginger-friendly weather. Holidays were in Aviemore, Keswick and Blackpool - destinations hardly famed for bikini weather. The best we could hope for was what my father called 'no-coats weather'. Some holidays were perfect for our complexions, such as the two weeks spent on Skye immersed in thick fog; even so, when the low cloud dispersed on the last day, we still reached for the factor 50.

Another holiday in Aviemore during the 1976 heatwave brought out the burrowing instinct in us - we huddled under the cover of a roller rink for most of our stay. A sunny spell in Keswick confined us to the cover of trees on Derwentwater; I braved a brief outing on a boat under the cover of a jumper.

Meanwhile, it was the Eighties, and my schoolfriends were jetting off to Majorca and Ibiza and coming back to school with mahogany skins, asking sarcastically: 'So, when are you going on holiday?' On the one occasion we did go abroad, to the Dordogne, on the first night we sat outside for dinner at 7pm; by the time I went to bed, my back was hot and red, and by morning, a blistering bubbling expanse.

There are many disadvantages to being a redhead. Having to tint otherwise transparent eyelashes, for one. Also we feel pain more acutely - there's a hormone linked to pain sensitivity, and redheads have higher amounts of it. A 2002 study showed we need more anaesthetic in operations. Yet, there's no denying we're special - less than 2 per cent of the global population, and according to some scientists, threatened with extinction. The cause of our redness is down to a single gene - the MC1R gene. It is mutations and variations of this gene that cause gingerness.

As with all of our genes, we have two copies, inheriting one from our father and one from our mother. If you have two copies of the ginger version, you will have red hair; if you only have one copy, you won't. One gene (dark hair) dominates over another (red hair). Jonathan Rees, professor of dermatology at Edinburgh University, who was the first scientist to isolate the ginger gene, likens it to height. 'It's not like mixing black and white to get grey,' he says, 'just as tall and short people don't mate and create everyone of average height - you still have tall and short people.' Red hair follows what geneticists call an autosomal recessive mode of inheritance.

My mother comforts me with the fact my own autosomal recessive inheritance will mean I'll age more slowly - redheads have no choice but to stay out of the sun. Although she is pale and freckly, she is not ginger, nor was my father - but they were both carriers of the red-hair gene. My maternal grandfather was auburn and he passed on a copy of the ginger gene to my mother; my father's carrier status became apparent when he tried to grow a beard (it vanished soon after). Each of my parents carried one recessive ginger gene - present on their DNA but biding its time. When half of my mother's DNA fused with half of my father's DNA to create mine, I inherited the ginger genes from both; when the midwife handed me to my parents, my mother looked at my father in shock. 'She's ginger!' she said.

The same MC1R gene responsible for red hair in humans crops up in other red creatures, too. Our distant cousins include red setters, Highland cattle and red squirrels. It is estimated that the versions of the MC1R gene that cause red hair have been around for 20,000 to 40,000 years. What's less clear is whether we'll still be around for the next 20,000 to 40,000 years. Scientists at the Oxford Hair Foundation claim that natural redheads will disappear by 2100. Since it is just 2 per cent of us who are redheads, and less than 4 per cent who are carriers, and because the gene for red hair is recessive, they claim the number of redheads will gradually decrease and then disappear altogether as carriers mate with people who do not have the gene.

It's time for action - perhaps a government campaign showing us in a more positive light, or a dating website exclusive to redheads where we can make contact in a safe environment, free from dominant dark-hair genes. Our scarcity means we are less likely to meet, but I have managed two ginger relationships, though one was with a bald man - it wasn't until the third date that I focused on his eyebrows over dinner. 'Are you ginger?' I asked before receiving the good news.

'Of course I bloody am,' he said, as if I was blind rather than him bald.

At present, it's Scotland that has the highest proportion of redheads in the world: 13 per cent have red hair and an impressive 40 per cent carry the recessive ginger gene. Ireland comes second, with 10 per cent having red hair, and 35 per cent with the gene. In Wales, it's also 10 per cent, and in England frequencies are highest in Cornwall and the far north: we're united by our Celtic past. Or at least its climate - redheads flourished in less sunny conditions while others succumbed to rickets (the rest of you need more sunshine than us to generate vitamin D).

The Oxford scientists claim that as people relocate to less redheaded zones, the gene could become diluted and eventually vanish. Not so, says Steve Jones, professor of genetics at UCL. He agrees that while it's true that numbers may decline for a term, in the end redheads are more resilient than that. 'The gene,' he says, 'will come out later down the line.' And although we're more mobile than we used to be, the genes will still exist regardless of where the people go. It only takes two carriers to find each other attractive for there to be a chance of a new redhead being born.

If there were a decline in number, though, it'd be nice to think our rarity value might up our cachet, increase our desirability in terms of sexual partners. Nice, but not likely to happen any time soon, according to Professor Jones: 'That takes things into the realms of what I call bullshit science. You can't say if rarity increases attraction with humans.'

We have been fashionable before. In the age of Elizabeth I, for example, and we could do no wrong as far as the Pre-Raphaelites were concerned. These days, though, it's a tougher sell, in spite of redhead heroes such as Damian Lewis and Julianne Moore. The standard response is more likely to be similar to that of the Newcastle council official who reportedly suggested last month that the ginger children who'd been bullied so much their family had been forced to move house twice should dye their hair 'to take the pressure off'.

We're also too scarce for existing members to hide under full-head tints, but it's happening. A redhead waitress in Plymouth dyed her hair blond to escape ginger-phobic taunts; last month she received £18,000 for ginger harassment. 'You expect that from kids, but not when you're in your forties,' she said.

But we have more to worry about than popularity. Try the threat of natural selection. There's a biological disadvantage that's a part of the ginger parcel: a higher risk of skin cancer. Redheads carry four times the normal risk for skin cancer. Our evolutionary perk - our vitamin D-producing abilities - has been reeled in now that Western diets have improved; and our pale skin has become a biological handicap rather than a genetic boost.

Beyond dispute is that skin-cancer rates in Europe are on the rise. People are living longer (skin cancers are more common in the elderly) and we have more exposure to UV, although, according to Professor Rees, 'There has been no real increase in UV in the UK. What's happening is that behaviour has changed over the past 30 years. People are dressing differently; they expose more skin. They go abroad more often.' And this is in Europe: antipodean redheads have it much worse. In some regions of Australia and New Zealand, skin cancer occurs at 10 to 20 times the UK rate.

I have a redheaded friend, Jane, from New Zealand, who has redheaded parents, a redheaded aunt and two redheaded brothers. She tells me that in her town, Wednesday is skin-cancer day, and they all go down to the local clinic to have their skin checked and cancers burnt off with liquid nitrogen. It's a routine procedure done by the nurse. It is, fortunately, the less dangerous form of skin cancer - basal cell carcinoma, rather than melanoma. But still. Her father has a chunk out of an ear and his nose; her aunt, who has worn skirts all of her life, has chunks out of her legs.

It's not necessarily an easy life, being red-headed, but I wouldn't have it any other way. We deserve some respect for our highly developed strategies for sun avoidance, for the tenacity of the recessive ginger gene and for sidestepping natural selection. Yet instead we are subject to ridicule and prejudice. On holiday, some wag will always compliment us on our tans. And although I haven't had a man from the council drop by to suggest a Clairol rinse, I'm 37, and two weeks ago, when I was crossing a road, a group of three teenage boys began to circle me on their bikes, chanting: 'Ginger! Ginger! Ginger!' I comforted myself with the fact that they could all of them be, unwittingly, carriers of the ginger gene. I wished a carrier wife and an entire brood of ginger children upon them.

Is it any wonder we have a reputation for hotheadedness? Harassed by strangers, mocked by mouse-haired kids half our size - of course we're going to blow from time to time. We do, however, have a camaraderie that exists among redheads everywhere - a bond of shared experience and mutual admiration. I once bumped into Chris Evans in a pub and thanked him for the positive input he has had on redheads; he patted me on the shoulder in what I think was a common understanding (although maybe it was the drink).

My sister called me Ginge when we were growing up, but I bear no grudge. I would have done the same had I been born with her brown hair, and I gave back as good as I got. Twenty years on, though, there's been an unexpected twist. Her husband is ginger. I was outraged at her duplicity, of course, the years of taunts... but more than that, I was delighted: the ginger gene was about to receive one enormous boost in our family gene pool. My sister was in all likelihood a carrier, and she was to mate with a fully fledged, 100 per cent homozygous ginger. When she fell pregnant a few years later, the anticipation was unbearable, but I was not disappointed. Millie came with a thatch of bright-red hair on the day she was born. The ancient red-hair gene - invincible, and quite possibly lurking deep inside you ...

· The ultimate ginger champion, Chris Evans is so proud of his titian locks that he even named his media company after them - Ginger Productions.
· 2004 Model of the Year Lily Cole's 'red hair and porcelain skin makes her perfect for the ultra-feminine designs of the moment,' says a Harper's Bazaar editor.
· Mick Hucknall is tireless in his quest for ginger justice. It started young. At 14 he was told: 'You can't be the lead singer of the band, you've got ginger hair'.
· When Rupert Grint heard about the Harry Potter auditions he knew he had a chance. 'I'm a redhead like Ron Weasley - and we're both scared of spiders'.
· Charles Kennedy has taken ginger all the way to the Houses of Parliament. He describes himself as 'a proud member of the ginger minority'.
· At the height of her fame, Gillian Anderson was voted the World's Sexiest Woman by FHM. Proof, if any were needed, that ginger can mean gorgeous.
· Nicole Kidman hasn't always been happy with the looks that got her noticed. 'What with my height and hair - weird, curly, messy - I was considered a bit odd'.
· Geri Haliwell loved the colour so much she named herself after it. Now, though, Ginger Spice has plumped for the strawberry-blond end of the spectrum.
· 'I hate my freckles, I hate my red hair and I think I'm overweight when I see myself on screen,' says Lindsay Lohan. Don't fight it, Lilo - ginger's the new black.

Today, My Heart is Maroon

scarlett@thescarlettletters.com (Scarlett) — Thu, 19 Apr 2007 08:52:00 -0500

The events and tragedy in unfolding Virginia over the past few days have left me with a loss for words. So many people have written so eloquently on the subjects of friendship, loss, violence and blame and so I will not attempt to duplicate their poignant words.

This event affected me, as it did so many others, having spent a great deal of time in Blacksburg and on the Virginia Tech campus. Thinking about pre gaming in the loft adorned rooms across from the football stadium at the age of 18…..It certainly shined a harsh halogen bulb of cruelty, reality and mortality on my adolescent memories. I can only imagine what it did to the current residents of West AJ.

But as I suppose is the case with most tragedies, we are tempted to take stock in our own lives, thank the heavens for the blessings bestowed upon us and pray for those suffering.

And so I shall.