I never wear pink. Especially, a soft, pastel, girly shade of pink. I own only one other pink top that I seldom wear. The outfit featured in this post is completely outside my box of seriousness. . . and I love it. Perhaps, this girly color holds the power to encourage me to positively embrace my femininity.
As a little girl, I wore pink tutus and ballet shoes. I liked pink bows and my pink Malibu Barbie beach house. But somewhere in middle school, I decided that plaid flannel and Levi’s would toughen me up. Somehow, I had gotten this idea that it wasn’t okay to combine functional with pretty. I didn’t get dressed. I just put on clothes. I’ve gone through many awkward stages of trying to find my pretty and being strong. The notion that the two could co-exist wasn’t possible. I had voices coming from all different directions telling me who I was and who I wasn’t. I was either too much of one thing or not enough of another. Eventually, I adopted my all black work uniform to everyday attire. It seemed a lot easier than trying to express who I was through my clothing, since I wasn’t sure who I was anyway. The color black became my safety net. I found my identity in my work, so I concluded that must be who I was. It made sense to twenty-something year old me. I was a boss at a very young age and it was really important for me to send the message to everyone that I was confident, even though it wasn’t a true reflection on what was going on inside. Black was required for working in the cosmetic industry. I was told that it was for two reasons… 1. It won’t pull the attention away from your face that should be highlighting your skin and makeup. 2. It won’t pull the attention away from your client because she should be the one that shines. I worked in cosmetics before contouring and highlighting were center stage and makeup was more about enhancing, than being the star of the show. With that in mind, I took the latter to heart…and then wearing black developed this paradox of downplaying myself but still striving to be recognized. One thing was for sure, throughout my 20’s, I stayed away from anything that could be interpreted as sweet and fragile. When I turned 30, something started to change. The opinionated voices began to get quieter and the volume of my inner voice grew louder. The last two years have shown me that there is strength in being gentle and power in being soft. This top is from dressbarn. “Lacy crochet details add a vintage-inspired element to this soft crepe peasant top” It has an airy, fairy-like feel to it. My embroidered denim is also from dressbarn and is described as “a cropped light wash denim with legging-like stretch, getting a trendy update with distressed details and pops of floral embroidery.” They feel like butter slipping over your legs. Super comfy! The best of all, they are offered in misses, plus, and petite! Wearing this 10 years ago would have made me feel like a little girl again. Wearing this now, I feel empowered to embrace all aspects of womanhood. Being feminine doesn’t mean being weak. I truly felt a different side of me come alive in this pastel palette. Stepping outside my box helped me to realize the conclusion of this stage of growth:
Pink is the fire of red calmed by the coolness of white.
The perfect balance of strength and femininity.