This Is What It Looks Like When Thousands Of Gingers Gather For A Redhead Festival

It should surprise no one that Anne was one of my personal heroes when I was a redheaded, freckled little girl. I coveted her world of puffed sleeves, ice cream picnics, haunted forests, and tea parties, but the thing I loved most about Anne was her vivid, unabashed imagination. I also admired her bravery and impulsiveness—I never would’ve tried to walk on a roof or act out poetry by floating down a river, and I certainly never would’ve broken a slate over my rival’s head (thought let me tell you, I wanted to.) The only thing I never liked about Anne was that she hated her red hair and freckles. It was hard knowing she wouldn’t approve of mine, either.

Nobody writes deeply flawed, infinitely lovable redheads like Rowell. Unlike most of the gingers on this list, self-conscious Eleanor from "Eleanor & Park" is teased mercilessly about her red hair—her classmates call her “raghead” and “Bloody Mary” and stick Maxi pads colored with red marker to her locker. But to Park, Eleanor is perfect, and it makes me all warm and mushy to watch him alter her perception of herself, if only the tiniest bit. Auburn-haired Reagan from Rowell’s second YA book is Eleanor’s opposite—she’s abrasive and experienced and self-assured. Objectively, she’s actually pretty mean, but somehow she’s lovable without being likable. Reagan may show her claws a lot, but she’ll be there for you when you need her.

Olivia, this book’s main character, spends about half the story hating Henry Page, the popular orange-haired boy from her class. But it’s clear to readers right from the start that Henry is a selfless, loyal friend any girl would be lucky to have. No matter how many times Olivia rebuffs him, he’s undeterred from doing thoughtful things for her, and almost imperceptibly, he manages to worm his way into her good graces. When Olivia finds herself haunted by the 50+ ghosts living in the town’s orchestra hall, Henry unflinchingly stands by her side and helps her, finally earning her friendship. He also gets extra adorableness points for being a major classical music nerd.

Paige is the redhead on this list who’s the most like me. She’s a quiet, introverted Brooklyn girl, and she feels most comfortable observing the world from a safe distance and drawing everything in her secret sketchbook. She refers to herself as “a redheaded island” and likes to hide behind her “Little Mermaid hair.” But Paige has an enormous personality inside of her, and it comes out in her art. When she starts sharing her drawings with the people around her, she grows into a bigger, braver person than she ever thought she could be. I loved watching Paige come out of her shell and seeing her creativity blossom as a result.

If Anne Shirley had grown up in the present and had access to glitter and sequins, she would have been Fancy Nancy. Like Anne, Nancy believes that most of the world lacks sparkle and flare, and she’s ready to do her very best to make it snazzier. She’s wonderfully imaginative and whimsical, and her outfits (which include flouncy petticoats, toe shoes, clip-on butterflies, and tiaras, often all at once) are pretty much the best things I’ve ever seen. Nancy even fancies up her language—her doll’s name is Marabelle Lavinia Chandelier, and she teaches her young readers all kinds of exciting new vocabulary words. When it comes to panache, you can’t beat Nancy.

This is my favorite book from childhood, but very few people seem to have heard of it. Gwinna is a winged, redheaded 12-year-old who was created by the Mother of the Owls, an ancient sorceress who talks to birds and animals. In order to break the curse that turned her parents to stone and bring summer back to her village, Gwinna must travel to the center of a mountain made of ice and capture the mysterious, rejuvenating music she sometimes hears in the wind. It’s such a strange, haunting story, and I was always desperately jealous of Gwinna’s ability to fly and make friends with owls, foxes, and griffons. (Okay, now that I’m trying to describe it, this book kind of sounds like a fever dream…)

I hear you all going, “WHAT?!” Until a few weeks ago, I would’ve said the same, but in my recent reread of "Chamber of Secrets," I stumbled upon the following lines: “[A] tall wizard with sweeping auburn hair and a beard called to Riddle from the marble staircase …. He was none other than a fifty-years-younger Dumbledore.” So hear this, all you ginger-haters out there: WE HAVE DUMBLEDORE. YOU WILL NEVER DEFEAT US.

I can’t let this list end without giving a quick shout-out to my favorite fictional redheads who are not from books. Joan Holloway isn’t always the kindest human being, but she has an enviably unshakable exterior, and she knows how to get what she wants. (And that wardrobe!) Oz and Willow are one of my favorite couples in the history of television—I loved that a cool, quiet rock star (who happens to be a werewolf) and an adorable, enthusiastic nerd (with magical powers) could fall so hard for each other. And Claire Fisher, the artist with the prickly exterior and the soft center, never fails to make my heart ache in the best possible way.