Rally of the redheads

Marchers keep the ginger flag flying.

The good people of Edinburgh see a lot of daft things at festival-time . . . but they’ve never seen anything quite like this! Hundreds of people are marching up North Bridge in protest at a gross injustice. Is it a demonstration against the bedroom tax? A demand for cheaper fuel bills?

No. It’s the inaugural Ginger Pride march.

Organisers are calling for justice for gingers and an end to “gingerism”, the acceptable casual insulting of the red-haired among us. It explains why I’m wearing a red wig and shouting “redder is better”. Frankly, it’s not just my look that’s flaming to mark the occasion. In my wig, I actually feel like my head is on fire. But it’s only right to support the real gingers. Or so I think.

“Hey! You’re not a natural redhead!” says 52-year-old Jon MacDonald from Edinburgh as I march beside him. “You’re cheating!”

All around there are dozens of placards. “Ginger and Proud” says one. “I’m Ginger Not Minger”, proclaims another. Some say “All Hail The Pale”, though I also see one saying “All Hail The Pail”.

The owner of that one has surely been hunting Oor Wullie’s bucket.

Everyone is having a laugh, but according to Canadian organiser Shawn Hitchins there’s a serious point, too.

“It’s great fun,” he says. “But I heard of one kid whose mum took him out of school because he was bullied for having red hair. That made me really sad.”

Star of the day is 17-week-old Claudia Johnson, who’s been brought along by mum Jill, 35, and charms everyone in sight.

“Fight for the rights of gingers!” Jill, from Edinburgh, says. “How could anyone be gingerist to her she’s gorgeous!”

Sisters Keegan and Finley Tracey, from Fife, have come with their blonde mum Gwendoline.

“We’re proud to be redheads that’s why we’re here. Though I might dye my hair when I’m older!” admits Keegan, 11, while Finley, 9, is adamant she’ll won’t.

The good-natured rabble makes its way slowly up North Bridge and rounds the corner on to the Royal Mile. I hear one weary soul say she’s had enough of being ginger and proud and she nips into Starbucks. If only she’d walked a few more paces, as the organisers are helping the redheads to refuel with ginger nuts, of course!

The march ends as Shawn tells us all to turn to the person next to us to tell them how nice their hair is. I turn to a bloke in a See You Jimmy wig and we just look at each other, lost for words at how daft we look.

I get chatting to Mike Thomson, from Paisley, who claims he never got a job he went for because he’s ginger.

Girlfriend Jill rolls her eyes and says it was because he’d lied on his CV. Most on the march wouldn’t say they’ve suffered real prejudice. But they all have tales of name-calling a-plenty.

For brothers Callum, 8, and Liam, 5, the names are water off a duck’s back.

“We’re ginger nuts yeah!” they cry.

The crowd roars its approval.