Pink is the new everything.
My daughter is a girl. This may be obvious by the fact that I refer to her as my daughter. However if we were to meet in the street you may not immediately assume she’s a girl. Unless she’s wearing pink.
For babies pink is not simply a color of clothing. Pink is a gender identifier.
My daughter wasn’t born with a full head of hair. She’s pretty much bald. What little hair she does have is very blonde and like most babies she looks gender neutral. Not really like a boy or a girl. She’s looks like a pudgy little baby or a tiny Gene Hackman. That’s why she has to wear something pink.
Pink prevents people from telling me I have a cute son. It makes my day easier. I think most people assume babies are boys, especially if they’re wearing gender neutral colors. Though you can see some people searching for a gender specific color to ensure their guess is better than 50/50.
I’ve even had people call her a boy when she was wearing a dress. A dress. That’s the universal sign of being a woman. That’s how people know which bathroom is the women’s and which is the men’s. That little stick figure on the door wears a dress. If you pee sitting down, go in there. Dress equals woman. Unless you’re a baby and that dress isn’t pink.
The color doesn’t stop at the clothing. With baby girls pink is everything. Her baby toys are pink. Her baby furniture is pink. Soothers. Bibs. Diaper Cream. Anything that can hold a dye is inevitably pink.
Hopefully once she’s no longer a baby and any stranger can guess her gender at 40 yards we can move on from this color. I say that with hope, because I’ve been to the toy stores. I’ve seen the young girls dragging their unfortunate fathers towards the aisle that is entirely pink. The aisle glows eerily as it draws them closer with its siren song. Every product in it from floor to ceiling dyed that rose-colored hue. And I’ve seen those same fathers standing at the cashier, pink toy in hand, as they give up the green.