My daughter has a strawberry hat:
She’s recently learnt to take it off all by herself. At the children’s centre the other day she took it off and cheerfully held it out to a little boy (let’s call him T) whose mum (H) is a friend of mine.
Me [to my daughter, laughing]: “Don’t give your hat to T, please, darling. It’s a lovely hat, and we’d like to keep it.”
H: “And it’s a girl’s hat!”
Me [surprised]: “Er. Is it?”
H: “Yes! You wouldn’t put that on a boy, would you?”
Me: “Yes! Why not?”
H: “It’s a strawberry.”
Me: “How do you know it’s a girl strawberry, not a boy strawberry?”
H [looking at me as if I’m a bit weird]: “Er, OK, whatever.”
My daughter wears this hat nearly all the time when she’s outside, and people assume she’s a boy all the time — though to be honest I think that’s more to do with people assuming maleness as the default than because the hat makes her look like a boy, or a girl, or anything other than a baby (or, I guess, if you were really gullible and/or shortsighted, a very large strawberry). Anyway, someone clearly thought that this hat was not girly enough, as they had to make a pink version:
When I saw this in a shop I thought “oh, they do a raspberry hat as well” (I know, raspberries don’t really look much like that, but that’s what chronic sleep-deprivation does to your brain). When I looked it up online, however, I found that it was sadder than that: the pink version is called crushed strawberry.