I have animosity toward pink, mainly because my mother tried to girl up my bedroom with that color. I liked black. I liked red. Instead I got magenta curtains (magenta!) and a stupid pink lamp with a fuzzy pink stuffed poodle on the base. You get the picture.
When we moved, I was told I could do up my new bedroom any way I wanted. Naturally, I chose red and black. She caved in and did up the room in red and white. Threw in a couple of black items for accent. Painted the walls yellow. YELLOW. Over my protests, of course. She was implacable. My father didn't intervene. The original gutless wonder. I suppose he thought it was a mother-daughter thing.
I feel that she reneged on the offer. Couldn't deal with her little butch kid. I'm sure she thought she had a budding lesbian on her hands. At fourteen, she said I was mature for not wanting to wear makeup. At sixteen, I was an anomaly for not wanting to.
And it all goes back to the stupid pink poodle...oh, and the idiotic paintings of big-eyed girls in crinolines...I mean, seriously. I couldn't sleep at night because of those paintings. They actually gave me nightmares.
So, no, I am not a big fan of pink.
