This is a photo of Miss L at 6 months and you’ll notice something….there is not one pink thing in sight. I’d banned it from the moment I discovered I was having a girl. Friends and family could buy clothes and toys in white, at a push lilac or yellow BUT NO PINK was to ever enter my house.
Of course everyone thought she was a boy. In the end when I’d had the umpteenth well meaning old lady ask me HIS name, I’d say it was Harry just to avoid the question of why she was in jeans and a t-shirt *again*.
Let me explain my aversion, I was a 1970’s tomboy as a child and I loved climbing trees, riding bikes and playing in mud. Pink was not a colour that was terribly practical for any of those activities. My mother is a wonderfully trailblazing feminist who taught me all the good things about being a woman and looking after yourself and being independent in all senses. I equated pink with princesses and being rescued and all that girly rubbish – not for me!
However one day when she was about two, my little girl gained her own voice. Despite my giving her a feminist upbringing with stories about princesses rescuing themselves, gender neutral toys, clothing and colours, and telling her how she can be anything at all when she grows up.
You know what she wanted….
Cath Kidston Florals
Play cleaning especially ironing – trust me something she has never seen me do!
To be a Mummy
So I have learnt to let go and to stop being so rigid in my tomboyish outlook – I think it was the Cath Kidston that won me over in the end though!. I have now embraced pink and discovered that my daughter has the most wonderful personal style. In turn she tries to understand why I need a comfortable pair of jeans and a new pair of black Converse
‘But, Mummy you do know you can get those in pink, don’t you?’