Sunday, February 23, 2014


Growing up I hated the color pink. Much of this was a result of having Flo "Kiss Mah Grits" Castleberry from Mel's Diner as my only source of pink-wearing-redhead inspiration. The "pink is for girls" mentality of the day also turned me hard against the shade. Determined to hang with my three older brothers, I denounced pink and all it's incarnations and declared blue to be my favorite color.

It wasn't until many, many years (ok a few decades) later that I began to embrace the hue. It started with a pair of pink stilettos that went oh so awesome with my faded, torn jeans. Then a set of pink rhinestone bangle bracelets came on board. A pink ankle bracelet. A pink ostrich purse. Pink sweaters for my dogs. I even have a pair of pink tinted glasses for those days I don't feel like dealing with my contacts. Even then, I limit the color to easily manageable accessories. Images of gum smacking, blue eyeshadow wearing waitresses kept me properly wary of otherwise adorable things like midriff baring pink cashmere sweaters or fluffy pink scarfs.

More than once someone has told me I'd look lovely in pink, but they've never seen me sweating it out in 112F Texas heat. My normally ivory skin turns an alarming shade of magenta in such circumstances, and adding a pink blouse to the mix would be criminal on the felony level.

I will, however, happily slap one of these on my Samsung Note 3 phone.

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