I have never really liked the color pink. I have always thought it was too girly and feminine to suit me. I think my mom must have felt the same way because I cannot remember ever seeing a picture of me in pink clothing as I was growing up. I probably had some pink clothes at some point, I just don't remember them. I can remember all of my sisters wearing pink - my older sister even wore a pink sweater with very cool silver zippers in one of her school photos. Not me. I was blue, green, brown, and sometimes purple.
All cancers now have an assigned color - primarily for marketing purposes, which I think is rather clever. It does make it easier once you have identified yours or your loved one's cancer; you know what color the ribbon needs to be to wear on your lapel. You know what color scarves and t-shirts you need to buy now, so everyone can see at a glance which cancer you are associated with.
Bright pink is of course the color of breast cancer. Orange is for my brother's leukemia; colon cancer is dark blue; I saw one that is new to me - a black and white zebra stripe for "carcinoid cancer". Most charts list lung cancer as white, but I saw a couple that listed the colored ribbon for lung cancer as "clear" (that will suck for the marketing and promotions professional). Some charts listed as few as a dozen cancers. One chart listed the colors for 32 different cancers.
I don't want a collection of bright pink scarves, hats, and clothing. This has nothing to do with identifying with the breast cancer crowd; it has everything to do with just not liking the color.
I have always kind of been a fan of red - intense, bold, fiery, in your face RED. Pink is a whole lot of white, with a drop or two of red. Red is a primary color with no apologies. Nothing else makes red as it is one of the untouchable triumverates of the primary colors - red, yellow, and blue. With these three colors, you can make all other pure colors. To get pink, or any other pastel colors, you need a bucket of white.
In browsing online for hats and scarves, I saw a range of pinks to be had, from a very, very pale pastel pink, all the way up to a very intense fluorescent pink. Now fluorescent pink I could get into because it is bold and strong, not weak and white-y.
I did not see much that I was sure would fit me when googling "women's pink breast cancer hoodie". I already know from experience that when most women's sizes get bigger, it is in diameter and circumference, never in length. I have learned that the sizing on a men's XL or XXL is what is comfortable on me.
So I was in Joe's USA Athletic Apparel (actually made in Honduras, if you care) and spotted a fluorescent pink pull-over hoodie. While I would much rather have a zip-up hoodie than a pull-over, again, I could not find one in an intense pink in a size that I could be relatively certain would fit me. I figured I ought to have at least one piece of solid pink apparel to recognize my new breast cancer tribe, so I bought one.
It arrived the other day, and it is not at all the fluorescent pink, as shown and claimed in the website. However, it is not pastel, either. It is more like a dark watermelon pink. I don't expect to wear it very much, so I can deal with the color.
Some of the scarves and hats I have acquired do have a little splash of pink in a variety of intensities, so I can wear any of those with my new pink hoodie. I might have to wear a combination of blatant pinks the next time I go to see a middle school event. Even insensitive, preadolescent boys should recognize that pink screams "breast cancer". Not at all sure that it will keep them from making incredibly insensitive comments, though.
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