As almost every university student does, I tend to let boredom get the best of me, and because of this, I look for other ways to pass the time during lectures. This search for entertainment normally results in people-watching. I usually resort to either watching the people who pass by my classroom in the halls, or simply observing those sitting in the lecture hall around me. Through my recent observation periods, I’ve noticed a rise in the popularity of the colour pink. Not a hot pink or a rose gold, but a very soft, pretty, feminine baby pink. Particularly in the form of a silk hair bow.
Just recently, I was talking to a few of my friends who were all bonding over what growing up as a girl was like. Throughout our discussion, we came across a common theme. We had realized that we had all grown up hating the colour pink. At first, we all sort of brushed it off since we assumed it was a preference we all shared. However, as discussions continued, we also came to learn that we each had a clear moment in our lives where we consciously made the decision to accept the colour pink again.
There’s no denying that pink is always going to be a colour that identifies as feminine, so why did we all fear being associated with that quality? My generation grew up with stories and movies all about a big strong man saving the damsel in distress. I’m sure the writers didn’t intend for their 4 year old audience to end up associating strength as a masculine characteristic, but that’s ultimately what happened. Using this logic, I had realized I was scared of the colour pink because pink was feminine, and to be feminine was to be weak, and I wanted to be strong.
My fear of femininity was so strong as a kid that I would actually opt to shop in the boy’s section of clothing stores because the girl’s clothing was so overwhelmingly pink. Even when it came to shoes, I would entirely refuse to wear a pair of shoes because the interior was pink. Yes, the parts of the shoe that people could see were all black, but because I would know that the inside was pink, I would never be seen in them.
As I’ve grown and matured, I’ve learned that pink is simply a colour. In fact, as I write this article, I’m wearing baby pink sweatpants. Although this may sound like it was a simple switch to make, it wasn’t necessarily. Physically putting on pink clothing is one thing, but the psychological reset I had to make was a major step. Essentially, I had to train my mind to erase what the media had taught me and even get rid of bad habits their teachings had given me.
Through talking with many girls, I’ve come to learn that almost all of us had to undergo this reset. This is why seeing women proudly wearing pink, especially cute little bows in their hair, brings me so much joy. I see the accessory, and I immediately know that she got ready in the morning, didn’t let the world get the best of her, and didn’t change her mind at the last second and leave the bows at home on the bathroom counter. She isn’t worried that it’ll make her look weak or that she’d be seen as any lesser of an individual. If anything, I think the bows actually create a sense of female empowerment, with the additional benefit of looking good too.