Why, oh why, is everything in the world of baby girls’ clothing pink? Pink is a fine color. But it is only one of thousands of hues. It’s kind of ridiculous. Once you get to toddler sizes, there’s a beautiful world of whimsical purples, playful oranges, and bold, vibrant primary colors. So why is it that clothing manufacturers presume I’m insecure about people asking me how old “he” is or telling me “he’s” a cutie, and insist that I clothe her in all pink? Why don’t they let that be my problem. They should worry less about my “need” to demonstrate to the world that my baby is a girl and more about the sewing needles left in the hem of her garments, or the tiny, unbuttonable buttons on the back of her shirt (when there should be only snaps, and only on the front of the garment).
Whether it’s the sweetly subtle pink of her soft fleece swaddle or the muted pink of her floral onesie, or the pink fawns on her forested waffle tee, or the pink ice skates on her pajamas, or the solid pink ballet tee, or the pink polka-dotted onesie, or the pink stripey outfit, or the pink snowflakes shirt, or the pink daisies onesie, or the pink stripey hoodie, or the pink pants, the other pink pants, the other other pink pants, the hot pink pants, or the other hot pink pants, or the other other other pink pants, I’m just not tickled pink.