Skadi van Terror

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And eat men like air.

The course of time shows that  gingers were revered as much as they were ridiculed. History is full of this dichotomy—redheads are goddesses and demons, kings and pillagers. Helen of Troy and Cleopatra had auburn locks.  The ancient goddess of love, Aphrodite, was a redhead. Botticelli’s “Birth of Venus” depicts a woman with ginger curls. Titian painted so many redheads, his name became a label for a particular kind of red. And of course, there’s Lucille Ball.
But red hair was also considered a mark of beastly sexual desire and moral degeneration. Shakespeare’s villains often wore red wigs while performing in The Globe, and the Grimm Brothers’ fables often feature red-haired men as brutal savages. Even in ancient Egypt, the human sacrifices offered at the grave of Osiris were often red-haired men. Love them or hate them, gingers got their fair of share of both praise and scorn.