Obviously, genetics has something to do with your looks.
That's why I've always wanted to be French. In my mind, French girls are frail, bird-like creatures who can wear anything and look fashionable. It's a stereotype, but it's a flattering one.
But I'm Irish.
I look Irish. I have blue eyes, a ruddy complexion, and people who have never met me before think my red hair is authentic. (Thanks Kasey!!!!) I wish I looked more Nicole Kidman in Far & Away and less Brenda Fricker in Home Alone 2, but I do look Irish.
I'm not really Irish. I'm American. But Americans like to hyphenate, and when I hyphenate I'm always Irish-American. I claim the ethnicity, but I don't have any relatives with brogues. No one in my family makes soda bread. We're sorta Lucky-Charms-Irish. (Magically Delicious!)
Most of my ancestors were Irish. I think. My maiden name is German, so some in my family hyphenate themselves as German-Americans. But to me, German-American sounds so thick, so solid, so strong. I prefer to evoke ethereal images of fairies, shananchies, limericks and leprechauns.
Except I am about as ethereal as a bus.
My husband's grandparents came from Okinawa, which is a small island in southern Japan. Due to the small gene pool, my husband is allergic to everything. Especially fish. (He's Japanese & we can't even go out for Sushi.) But he's good looking. His whole family is good looking. His sisters are lovely petite girls with thick dark hair and almond shaped eyes.
At my wedding, my dad couldn't stop talking about how beautiful they are. In fact, as Dad & I were dancing the traditional father-daughter waltz, dad raved to me about Greg's sisters:
"Dad?" I said
"Yes?" he replied.
"You know I paid $1,500.00 for this dress right?"
"Oh, you look nice too. I am just saying that Joyce & Suzanne are GORGEOUS."
They are. They really are. They are beautiful inside and out.
And they aren't even Irish!