the wearing o' the pink


This morning, I stumbled across an earth shattering revelation about myself. I was in the laundry room, evaluating my clothing options before work (my clothes are almost always in the laundry room as I'm too lazy to iron them when they are done laundering). "Should I wear a pink cashmere sweater over a white shirt? Or should I wear a black sweater vest over the crazy patterned pink shirt that reminds me of a slightly crazy Korean bon vivant?" I thought to myself. "Hmm, what did I wear yesterday? Oh yeah, a black tipped pink sweater seat. And Monday? A pink patterned shirt". That's right were it hit me: I have entirely too much pink in my wardrobe. All day I've been thinking of the origins, the roots if you will, of this current state. If I go back around 13 or so years, my wardrobe was entirely black. That's not necessarily a good thing, but at least it was the norm for my age at the time. I think the color pink started creeping in around age 24 or so. I had a pink and white hounds tooth suit that I just adored (in fact, there is a picture of Schwest and I where I am wearing that suit, florescent red hair and entirely too much eye makeup, on display at my mom's house). I also remember a pink angora dress that came down about 3/16" below my crotch being a favorite around the same time (can't you just see it? Paired with some pink lip gloss and...facial glitter?). I suppose it matters less when it happened and more WHY it happened. I live in abject terror of turning into a suburban soccer-mom type. Could I be heading down that path? Will I be wearing appliquéd holiday sweatshirts and buying country crafts at this time next year? And, anyway, don't you actually have to have KIDS for this to happen? Isn't there some hormone that is released in the brain after giving birth that makes all of those things seem "cute"? It's true that I am still appliqué sweatshirt free. And no matter how hard my mother in law tries to change it, I still do not have country crafts in my house. I have, however, caught myself admiring those suburban lady matched sets in the Nordstrom catalog and thinking "that looks like a comfy and pulled together outfit for a Satuday" but then I always catch myself. I suppose that you might not be seeing a clear connection between sweatshirts, crafts and the color pink. But trust me on this one, they are definitely linked. I feel like I can feel the once edgy person I was, slowly sinking into a pair of stretch khakis and a J.C. Penney haircut. And it's frightening. So promise me, I mean PROMISE ME that if you ever see me wearing a souvenir t-shirt from anywhere or if I ever have any cross-stitched pillows in my house then please get together a group of people and have an intervention. Because the auto industry is that proverbial bathtub wear the soccer-momness goes up a couple degrees each hour so that I can't feel it and before long, I'm going to get burned. (I just realized that my background is pink now too. It's a silent scream for help.)

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