When my family moved to our current family home when I was nine years old, my mum gave me my first opportunity to pick the colour of my bedroom. As if she even needed to ask: I was going for baby pink, of course. I was obsessed. I wanted all my bed-sheets to be pink, my wardrobes, my lampshades; I wore pink clothes and my favourite teddy bear, Cuddles, was pink.
I’m not quite sure why I was so obsessed. Perhaps because nine-year-old me, with her glasses with lenses so thick they magnetised her eyes to double size, with her frizzy, knotty hair, she so desperately wanted to feel pretty. And pink was the colour of barbies and fairies and princesses, and the epitome of femininity. The cool girls at school liked pink, and the boys liked girls who liked pink.
When I was around fifteen and I started going round to friends’ houses, with their clean white walls covered in cool photographs of us drinking alco-pops, and when I decided that black and red were sexier to wear than pink, I begged my mum to paint my room white. I wanted desperately to rid myself of the silly childish fantasy that filled my room. I avoided having friends over, for fear they’d think me immature; I was already a year younger than everyone else having moved up a year in primary school, and I hated the thought of that being magnified.
One summer when I came back from university in Exeter, my mum had surprised me by painting my room white. I surprised myself; I really missed it.
And now, that exact shade of pink I loved so much in my childhood and attempted to reject in my teenage years is supposedly the biggest trend in 2017. Except this time it has had a revamp. It’s been popularised by Missguided and Glossier, filling the catwalks in London, New York and Milan; adorning everything from beauty products to homeware. It has matured from ‘baby’ to ‘millennial’ pink.
‘Millennial’ is a funny word. Its original meaning was to refer to those who came of age after 2000, but it now seems to be synonymous with a whole unique culture. Saying ‘literally’ when you really mean ‘metaphorically’; exclaiming that you’re ‘dying’ when you’re very much still alive; using Instagram and Snapchat more than you use a toaster; punctuating every other word with ‘like’; working freelance; taking gap years; dancing to techno at festivals; experimenting with sexuality; having anxiety; paying extortionate rent prices while drowning in debt; not knowing what the fuck you are doing with your life.
So I think millennial pink is *literally* me. Halfway between being a child and a grown-up, sometimes fashionable, sometimes pretty, sometimes uncool, sometimes crappy. The ultimate millennial, and the ultimate misfit. And while the trends change like the tides, it’ll always be my #RideOrDie.