In my pre-child days I swore that if I had girls I would never dress them in pink. (I also swore my babies would never wear things with ears on them (we know how THAT ended up), because, gosh darn it, babies with animal ears are just too darn cute. And if anything, the world needs more cute.)
But yes, pink. Pink was girly. Pink was Barbie. Pink was the princess that waited patiently for her prince charming.
But when my girls came along I realized that it wasn’t about the colour, it was about the person wearing it. It was around this time that pink became one of my favourite colours too. Pink can be challenging. Pink can be subversive. Pink is strong enough to give all the other colours the finger. Pink is a lot more fun than the range of neutrals adults tend to wear. We have embraced The Pink.
We have so much pink around here that I do a separate load of shades of pink – a whole rainbow of reds, purples, salmon, fuchsia, rose and coral. It makes for a happy sight on the laundry line.
