You walk to the bathroom, and the woman on the door is pink. You’re shopping for a baby girl; good luck finding anything that isn’t pink. Trying to buy your daughter a birthday gift? Here’s a pink princess castle presented in an even pinker box.
Culturally and historically, pink has become a blueprint for anything labeled feminine.
If it’s pink, it has got to be a girl’s item.
If it’s pink, it always connects back to a woman.
When I was younger, I hated being called a princess. It felt like a limit being placed on me. Boys could play with cool swords or be dragons for Halloween. They were allowed to play outside and no matter how dirty they got, it was passed off because “they’re boys.” Meanwhile, society expected me to sit inside and play Barbies while I was drenched in my glittery pink shirt and skirt. If I wanted to play sports, I would be seen as a tomboy — a phrase I hate with my entire being.
A girl is a girl, no matter if she feels the need to participate in what society deems as “boyish.”
I practically detested the color pink when I was finally mature enough to understand that girls wear pink and boys wear blue.
From the moment we’re born, we’re separated into swaddles based on color. I mean, what’s so wrong with purple, or green or even orange?
It was almost as if it were an identity someone else had chosen for me. One I had thought that I hadn’t wanted. After all, girls are practically bombarded with pink shirts screaming “Girl Power!” at you as soon as you walk into clothing stores. Instead of the empowerment I didn’t know I was searching for at such a young age, it felt more like a filter I put on to fit in with society.
That was the problem: girls are taught to live and thrive in the life of pink.
And I hadn’t understood that quite yet.
But then came junior year of high school. Somewhere between growing up and growing into myself, I had a one-on-one meeting with femininity. And standing there right in the center of it all… was the color pink. The same one I thought I had hated after claiming purple as my favorite color for over 10 years.
My first babydoll top came in the color pink, and I thought it was the cutest shirt I had ever gotten my hands on. That singular piece of clothing made me realize that being feminine was so much fun. Dressing up and doing my hair, and feeling like a doll, was an experience that showed me that you can be feminine and powerful at the same time. It’s not submitting by following what society believes in.
The same color I learned to reject for so long suddenly felt powerful. And that’s because it’s exactly what pink is supposed to represent. With so many shades, pink can be bright or soft, loud or quiet. The color of a strong woman, an empowering woman, and most of all pink is anything you want it to be, just like a woman can be anything she wants to be.
Women can now live in a society where we can wear the color pink proudly.
Coming into college, my whole dorm aesthetic was based on the color pink. My wardrobe mainly consists of pink. And yes, I get irrationally jealous when a cute item I want happens to come in every single color… except for pink.
Pink is the base of my identity. It’s what makes me happy, what encourages me in my moments of weakness. I love being girly and pretty and expressing myself in a feminine way.
So, next time you pass by a store and think about how cheesy that pink princess Barbie castle is, think of the little girl who loves being a girl. The one who is going to grow up wearing pink and playing princesses to become a powerful, feminine woman.
Femininity isn’t fragile.
Pink isn’t weak.
It’s time to put pink on proudly.