Where it began
Growing up with red hair and freckles in the '80s was no picnic. Kids told me my freckles were cooties. Contagious, even. I felt like a freak, and most days I just wanted to disappear.
But it's hard to keep a low profile
when your head is on fire.
My parents had different plans: They wanted me to embrace my freckles.
Dad started naming them, one by one, each name weirder than the last. Mortimer and Franz were two of my favorites.
We've been through a lot together.
Then, to make matters worse, they put me in a bright yellow T-shirt that said "Freckles Are Funky!" and sent me out into the world.
exhibit A: Me in '81
Somehow, I survived the hair, the cooties, and, surprisingly, even the shirt. It took a minute, but I've come to really appreciate Mortimer, Franz, & friends.
That's why I created Freckles Are Funky: to help freckle faces and carrot tops everywhere celebrate what makes us unique.
No two freckles are alike.
Wear yours loud and proud.