I imagine many of you cannot contain your apocalyptic disappointment that this is not a homage to the eponymous, faux-edgy pop songstress. Sorry. One day I will write a post about her – after drinking a mythical amount of Bacardi Breezers and downing the entire contents of my medicine cabinet – but you might have to wait a while. What I want to write about in the colour.
I have no issue with the actual hue, or with flamingos or the many varieties of flowers blessed with it. What I do have an issue with is that my sweet, darling daughter is bloody obsessed with pink. I remember when she used to comment that she had a pink t-shirt and would be mildly tickled that the colour happened to be pink. She would look up at me, a smile on her face and say: ‘it’s pink!’ like it was the most wonderful thing in the world to have something – if only one – that was coloured pink.
But now it has taken a turn down a darker path.
Now, DD actively looks for anything that is pink and then makes the comparison with whatever object relates to her. For example, we saw a bright pink Fiat 500 the other day (what the fuck were they thinking ordering a brand new car in pink – what are they, three? Don’t they understand the concept of re-sale value?) and after the initial delight of spotting the rare bird that is a pink car she proceeded to weep that out car was silver. ‘I don’t like our car…’ sob, sob, ‘I want a pink car!’ She quickly went through the remaining two stages of pinkmania which are anger (‘Why don’t I have a pink car? It’s not fair!’) and then despair (‘I want a pink car….! I want a pink car…’ punctuated with real tears).
Welcome to my nightmare:
- Clothes Her entire wardrobe now consists of pink clothing. All other colours are now seen as inferior. We have tried with blues and yellows but then she’ll wander into her room, pulling out the entire contents – like a burglar looking for an heirloom -and return looking like the Hello Kitty football mascot. I secretly hate Hello Kitty. If Hello Kitty were real I’d lure her into a sack with some catnip and take her to a canal with some brick friends for company.
- Eating and Drinking Due to Christmas there has been a fair degree of ‘pink creep’ into the kitchen and now DD has now resolved to not eat any foodstuff or imbibe any liquid if it is not contained within a pink receptacle. I once considered dying her food pink – as a kind of fun thing to do – but realised, as I was unscrewing the lid, that it would only lead to her only being able to eat pink food. Imagine the living purgatory that would be colouring everything so that it was pink…?
- Craft I really hate the word craft and when it is married to the word fair it creates an unholy union of: craft-fair. Craft fairs are chock full of Tolkien evangelists and slight men with goatees whittling elves out of earwax and they should be outlawed. Where was I? Oh yeah, craft. DD will only draw on pink paper or white paper with a pink pen. Her shangri-la of craft is pink paper and a pink pen. It sounds like a way to drive oneself crazy – like applying the second coat of white emulsion in a white room – but it rings her ‘pink’ bell, so: whatever.