A little more pink

Pink has a way of bringing out the girl in me

Sometimes I just need a little more pink in my life. I grew up surrounded mostly by brothers and their guy friends. As a young adult, I spent a year and a half serving with mostly male missionaries. I married my husband and had four sons, two of whom still live at home. I now go to networking events attended mostly by men, and I just started a volunteer tech group whose membership is about 95% male. (In fact, I would have been the only woman at our last meeting had my girlfriend not offered to come along as a carpool companion.) I’m used to seeing suits, ties, and black Wing Tips, and I’m used to washing blue jeans, boxer shorts, and white tube socks, which are all fine and good. I like boys and I like men. (Truth be told, at social events, I typically gravitate toward the male conversations.) But sometimes I just need a little more pink in my life.

For a time, I actually believed the clothing industry had it out for me. “What a racket!” I’d complain, as I’d see my daughter’s pile of pastels stacked up next to my boys’ darks. She could make mud pies and finger paint with the best of the boys, but did the boys’ clothes get ruined? No! In fact, they managed to work as hand-me-downs several times over. Meanwhile, her clothes were trashed, and I’d have to shop more often for girls' clothes. So, you see, my complaining wasn’t too far off base: pretty pinks for little girls make shopping a necessity.

I’ve gone to my fair share of baby showers, so I know the drill when it comes to little-boy clothes. When the outfits are shown off, you say, “Oh, how cute!” and “They sure make boy clothes cuter than they used to.” But when it comes to little-girl baby showers, each frilly variation of the little pink outfit elicits a collective “Aaahhh!” and “That’s soooo cuuuute!” There’s just something about pink that makes us soften.

I guess I feel just a little ripped off because I only had one girl. It’s not that she hasn’t been the greatest daughter ever; it’s just that I didn’t relish in all the female froufrou the way I should have. Everyone knows that mothers of little girls have the license to insist on pink, but that license gets revoked quickly. So, I should have put big, pink bows in my daughter’s hair while I could; I should have had more fun dressing her in those very impractical, adorable, pink baby-girl clothes more often. But very early on she got a mind of her own and began fixing her own hair and picking out her own outfits, and, with only one daughter, I never got a second chance at pink.

I have to admit that, even as a grown woman, wearing pink makes me feel slightly more girlish, a little more . . . well, feminine. Pink helps add some softness to my not-always-soft personality. I’ve noticed, however, that my wardrobe is full of blacks, dark browns, and navy blues. 

Since today is Valentine’s Day, I'm reminded that sometimes I need a little more pink in my life. So, while it may require some shopping, perhaps today can be a second chance at pink.