My latest acquisition is state-of-the-art and comes in a pink case. A new mobile? Sunglasses?
Since you’ll never guess what it is, I’ll tell you.
Having paid an arm and a leg for a dental implant and crowns just a year ago, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have to go back to the clinic in this lifetime. Unlike earlier days when going to the dentist made grown people cry, the dental work itself is now fairly painless but wallets take a big hit. So I was miffed with myself when I absent-mindedly bit into something hard and broke a crown. After replacing it, the dentist also presented me with a mouthguard to make sure that I didn’t further damage my teeth in my sleep.
The state-of-the-art 3D-printed mouthguard came in a spiffy case. A pink one. I asked lightly, “So is it pink for women and blue for men?”. Though my tone was conversational, the dentist froze before answering hesitantly, “Yes, I hope that’s not a problem.” I sympathised with him as negotiating a politically correct path is rather tricky. I smiled as best as I could between rinsing my mouth, and reassured him, “It’s just a colour, doc. It’s cool.”
When did pink become a feminine colour anyway? Time was when girls and boys wore pink, blue or any colour. Some American records show that boys used to be dressed in pink; the colour border red which was considered a strong ‘masculine’, and girls used to be dressed in blue. Perhaps gender assignment of colours began with chain stores that wanted to boost sales. Perhaps hospitals birthed the trend when they began using blue and pink to differentiate the genders of the babies. Gender reveal parties blew it out of proportion alongside the mega balloons.
Perhaps, as the Europeans believe, it began with Madame de Pompadour, Louis XV’s mistress, who wore it to flaunt her wealth and status. She inspired the porcelain company Sèvre to launch a line called ‘Rose Pompadour’, in her signature colour. Perhaps, as the Americans believe, ‘Mamie Pink’ became a rage because of Mamie Eisenhower, the American First Lady. She loved pink so much that the White House began to be jokingly called the Pink Palace. The infusion of pink went international when US embassies across the world were redecorated to have a pink bedroom in each just in case the President and First Lady dropped by.
Pink has other meanings too. It got a political hue in the West where anyone suspected of Socialist sympathies was derisively called a ‘pinko’ in a derogatory reference to their diluted Communism. It got an economic hue as a ‘pink tax’ that women pay for products that are sold at higher prices than those for men. A pink ribbon shows the wearer supports breast cancer awareness.
India has a fabulous Pink City and Indians of all genders have been wearing all colours without gender associations. Western marketing caught up with us and affected the West-looking urban consumers. While most remained blissfully unaware of such arbitrary assignations of colour, the government machinery somehow got caught up in the colour craze. So we got gentle ASHA workers (Accredited Social Health Activists) in pink saris and salwars, and tough cops in pink cars. That pink is a feminine colour became a fait accompli.
When we started the Under The Raintree women’s cultural festival, India’s first women-centric multi-arts festival, we had to distinguish it from other cultural events that we held under the same brand name. A designer suggested that we add a touch of pink to the green foliage to differentiate between the two. I remember feeling a bit conflicted about the typecasting but we had to move things along and we went with it. Over time, I have come to accept and revel in it. My feminist friends and I see the festival not just as a platform to bring about gender empowerment but also to rejoice in our femininity.
That’s why I wore pink like many other folks when I trotted off to see Barbie, the movie. I don’t remember playing with a doll as a child. This statement is not a lament. What I had were sisters, cousins and neighbours to play with. We played several games and invented many with our imaginations fuelled by books and comics. Perhaps I overcompensated by playing with my son’s toys – a UFO that fired discs, a Star Wars lightsabre, a train set. Barbies were by then available in India. Mea culpa – raised within the gendered construct of society as it was then, my view was that a doll was an acceptable gift for a girl but not the Barbie doll; I judged its appearance and deemed it unfit as a gift to any girl. But we are woke now! The subversive plot of the film lured me and it has since dawned on me that Barbie was always a role model for independent women. Except for her impossible-sized anatomy, there are many positive sides to Barbie. She owns her own house. She has a career that keeps up with the aspirations of women in a changing world. And she rocks the colour pink.
PS: Years ago, my company had an unusually generous client who would bring gifts for everyone in the office along with his cheque. In one instance, he had an extra gift for me – a Marks & Spencer T-shirt for my son. A high schooler then, said son refused to accept the gift as it was pink in colour. Cut to some years later, his wardrobe includes very many bright colours including pink. Just like Ranveer in a pink Valentino, men like my son are cool wearing pink as a gender-agnostic colour.
Sandhya Mendonca is an author and host of the ‘Spotlight with Sandhya’ podcast.