I have a long-standing relationship with the color pink.
Growing up it was my favorite color. During one of our (many) moves my mom asked me what color I wanted to paint my bedroom walls. Pink. Actually it was more of a pink-and-purple color combo that really got my heart going back then. Pink-and-purple barbie outfit. Pink-and-purple birthday cake. Pink-and-purple bedroom. For those of you who need a visual, allow me to paint this picture: Pink sponge-painted walls with purple carpeting. It was a little girl’s heaven.
As I grew up, pink and I grew apart. I wanted less of a sweet-little-girl vibe and more of a cool-girl vibe. Perhaps I wanted to compensate for being the naive, neglected little girl in middle school. Whatever the reason, I was no longer enamored with the hue.
Well into adulthood I’ve recently found myself gravitating back to pink. It helps that the color itself pairs nicely with my blonde hair, blue eyes, and let’s face it: pale face.
Am I still wary to wear pink? Yes. Why? I don’t know. I fear it looks too girlish. Like I’m a girly-girl. Basically the anti cool-girl-chic look I’m always going for (and rarely achieving).
I’m willing to give the feminine hue another go. I am, after all, a feminist.