Color Theory: Pink
Examining the sweet side of the spectrum
For most of my life, I’ve been suspicious of the color pink. As a teenager, I was turned off by its association with the princess industrial complex, and all things overtly feminine. I maintained a strong bias until the advent of millennial pink, which infiltrated fashion and graphic design in the first half of the 2010s. Rebranded as cool and gender neutral, this pale hue offered a counterpoint to the saccharine pinks of girlhood. Now in my early forties, I find that wearing pink in any shade can feel subversive and even powerful.
I should note that my early skepticism of pink extended only to Western clothes. Pink didn’t have the same divisive meaning in the vernacular of Indian dress. As fashion editor Diana Vreeland famously commented, “pink was the navy blue of India.” At a wedding or Indian cultural event, I would happily wear a sari or lehenga in rani pink, a lush shade of hot pink I could never imagine wearing to school. My relationship to color shifted as I code switched between cultural norms.
As a mother, my old suspicions of pink reemerged as I tried to steer my daughter away from traditionally girly looks. When she was a baby, I dressed her in tasteful neutrals and all colors of the rainbow. But as soon as she could voice her opinions, pink began to dominate her every possession, from her shoes to her water bottle. Part of me feels like I’ve lost a battle or done her a disservice by submitting to the gravitational pull of sis-gender norms. But censoring her love of pink would only make her want it more.
Moreover, I had to ask myself, was pink really the problem? As noted by fashion historian and FIT director, Dr. Valerie Steele, “Color is a cultural construct. It’s society that gives color its meaning.” Not wanting my daughter to be pink-washed was really about not wanting her to feel powerless, not wanting her to be underestimated. These fears would exist no matter what color she was wearing.
As a textile designer, I discovered the power of pink with a pattern I created for heritage brand, Scalamandré, called Leaping Cheetah. The design features a pair of cheetah silhouettes on a contrasting ground color, and first launched as a printed wallcovering in 2020. When I was developing the palette, I remember feeling like the bubblegum colorway was a risk. Was it the right pink? Too kitsch? Not serious enough for our audience of traditional interior designers? Beiges and blues were expected bestsellers, but with this pattern, bubblegum far exceeded my expectations. Long before the release of the Barbie movie, I learned firsthand that there is a market for pink.
Inundated as we are by all things Barbie, pink is unavoidable this summer. On the streets of New York City, groups of women cluster in pink ensembles, taking selfies on their way to the theater. My inner teen is rolling her eyes, but the truth is, I find the cultural moment endearing, so much so that I actually made the trip to the theater (the last three movies I saw on the big screen were all playdates for my son featuring cartoon dogs, so this was a big deal).
Pink is so dominant in the movie, it becomes a character in its own right. “I can’t even tell you the meetings we had about pink!” says director Greta Gerwig in a video about the Barbie Land set on Architectural Digest, throwing up her hands in exasperation. “We sat with all these different kinds of pinks and asked, what is the pink? And how do all these pinks interact?” Clearly, they was asking the right questions.
The last place I expected to wear pink was at a funeral. But recently, pink and black was the designated dress code for my husband’s grandmother’s “homegoing ceremony,” as Bahamians call it. When I heard about the color scheme, I had questions. What shade of pink, and what proportion? I wanted to honor the theme, but was afraid to appear overly festive or disrespectful. I settled on an option that felt safe - a black dress woven with flecks of bright pink.
At the funeral, there was more pink than I expected. The women were swathed in baby pink lace, fuchsia tulle and coral chiffon, and the men wore candy-colored button downs and matching suspenders. There were pink pocket squares, pink hats, and sparkly pink jewelry. As I looked around the church, the dress code began to make sense. The inherent joy of the color softened the harsh reality of the moment. It dampened the cries of the mourners and the thunder of the preaching. The rows of pews became a bed of flowers, the children and grandchildren of a beloved matriarch like weary but steadfast blooms. The color went beyond a feminist statement, a trend or a blockbuster movie. These shades of pink were personal and deeply felt, evoking the sweetness of childhood and the heartache of womanhood, holding us together in their warm embrace.
Links
Really enjoyed this article, “Why I Got Married In Hot Pink Molly Goddard Tulle” by Harriet Hall, sent to me by a friend considering wearing hot pink at her wedding.
If you aren’t sick of Barbie yet, this NYT article, How Those ‘Barbie’ Dreamhouses Came to Life: ‘We All Had to Believe in It’, offers interesting insight from production designer Sarah Greenwood and set decorator Katie Spencer.
For all things Bubblegum Leaping Cheetah, including wallpaper, fabric, trim, pillows, socks, umbrellas and embroidered slippers, please visit: https://www.redfromscalamandre.com
(I don’t work there anymore but I still love my cheetahs;)
Happy August! Thank you for reading!
Thank you for reading, Pat! The General sounds like a great character!
I enjoyed reading your article! It made me remember my Norwegian aunt, who was one of the strongest women I have ever known. Her family nickname was The General and her absolute favorite color was pink. No contradiction there at all! Pat Bernstein