is not just a creaky old John Hughes movie. Pink has become the ethos, the philosophy, the dream and the religion for girls of the elementary school age and under. Until they betray pink for purple…
This conclusion will not surprise anyone with eyes in their head over the past quarter century.
I’ve been told that in Japan, boys wear pink and girls blue. Not true, according to reputable sources (the interwebs). Males and females in that country do, though, apparently mix and match colors in their apparel, ignoring sex-related social constructs.
The stores on the Grand Concourse have girl-pink stacked high.
Pink bikes beckon.
Stuffed animals present themselves as irresistable.
Pink’s popularity for grown women grew over the 20th century, from the choices of Mamie Eisenhower to Jayne Mansfield to, jumping ahead, the Plastics in Mean Girls who dressed in pink on Wednesdays. Can we forget Hillary Clinton’s bright pink blazer?
The situation differs for small fry. They have all become princesses. Princesses are sweet, not solid. In fact, being a princess is nothing a child can aspire to. Yes, thy possess magic, but not with powers to make anything actually happen.
Why should anyone care? That toddler in her stroller, buried in fluffy pink, is so comfy, so cute! And girls in pink grow up to be perfectly capable pink-attired woman, like this one awaiting her Covid shot.
Rainbows are everywhere now. Why not give girls the gift of choosing any color they truly desire? It would take some counter-brainwashing, true, with all the material goods available, the clothing and toys and tutus drenched in pink. But it would be good if anyone could be pretty in any color.