I would wear flamboyant clothes and long hair, and most singers at the time didn't.
I didn't see how wearing prosthetics was quite so different from being born with flaming red hair in a crowd of black-haired babies, or being of a different religion from that of every other child in your area.
Even when I was a kid, I had this insane head of flaming hair. It looked like a wig.
Flannel shirts, denim, Converse, a guitar, messy hair? That's literally me.
When you start your career, you have to figure out a way to separate yourself from the pack. So I went for a kind of preppy, psycho-killer look: I had short hair, grey flannel pants, and a button-down shirt. I think it worked, because nobody else was looking that way at that time.
My mom did this in the '90s. She'd put a bandana in her hair, cutoff jeans and throw flannel, and I just remember looking at her thinking she was the most beautiful supermodel ever.
You don't always need to be this flawless female with amazing skin and done hair. Perfect doesn't exist.
For some reason, I wrote about the bed we slept in when I was a kid. It was a half-acre of misery, that bed, sagging in the middle, red hair sticking out of the mattress, the spring gone and the fleas leaping all over the place.
There are times when I flick through magazines and think I'm in danger of becoming a prisoner of my own hair.
I enjoy flitting around between hair colours. I find it fascinating when people think I'm naturally blonde, as I've only been blonde for about two seconds. People pay more attention to you as a blonde; it's also easier for people to assume you're a ditsy young actress. Of course, I am a ditsy young actress - well, maybe not ditsy.
I remember the first time I went to Italy when I was eighteen, I was in Florence and there were all these eighteen, nineteen, twenty-year-olds gliding past on Vespas with crinkly, long, hair, and I thought I was on the set of a movie. I couldn't believe that this was going on and I hadn't known about it before. I was flabbergasted.
I have been 130 lbs. as well as 215 lbs. I have had blond, strawberry blond, green, pink and purple hair, and none of that has ever exempted me from having lewd comments flung at me in the street.
Napoleon's The One Concealer is amazing. Pantene Styling Treatment Foam makes my stupid-crazy hair behave, and I love hair powders such as Aveda Pure Abundance and Batiste Dry Shampoo.
My long hair and the sideburns made me stand out, really, because my hairstyle was completely different to the other footballers of that era.
My hair changes with my emotions... and my purpose for the day.
In Wisconsin, style-wise, it was all about bundling up, maybe wearing a hat and forgetting about your hair.
When Reg died and we first looked into getting a new dog, I was adamant we should pick up a mongrel from an animal-rescue shelter. It's not only that they're usually healthier and have better temperaments, they also fit with my world view - I prefer a ballpoint to a fountain pen, a barber to a hair stylist, and camping over glamping.
When you have that long, flowing hair, you feel different - when you cut it, the framing of your face changes immediately.
People don't associate red hair, pale skin, and freckles with beauty.
When I was a kid, I always had the red hair, the white skin, and freckles. Back then, I wanted to look like everybody else, but now I realize that being different is definitely a major help.
