Pink You Can Feel

Pink isn’t even a crayon in the basic eight-box. (I didn’t have that fact memorized but I only had to consider it for a moment.) By that measure alone you might say it’s not as popular as other colors. It cannot boast the advancement from adjective to noun. Pink certainly isn’t feeling blue and doesn’t come close to turning green with envy. Pink is a far cry from being “in the red”, but even without carrying a debt load, there is a special place in my emotion bank for pink.

In 2002 a party was born that brought old friends together (after nearly a decade hiatus) for a long weekend. Familiar greetings, late-night storytelling, a moderate amount of drinking and an abundance of laughing summarizes the 48 hours, but the lingering emotion for the next 19 years—and counting—has been the cause of the clandestine feeling of happiness when I see the color pink.

The very clever spark that created this everlasting sense of joy and belonging was the incredibly simple idea of having all the girls wear the color pink to the party; hence, Pink Party was born.

Now, Pink Party is a teenager, and after all the years of matching pink t-shirts that annually mark the year and place, followed by pink prizes and surprises (think mugs, blankets, pillow cases, hand-made bracelets, hats, flasks, sunglasses, cocktails, koozies, beach chairs, and wine glasses) when I see the pink shirt on the rack of clothes, or the pink towel stack in the household isle at Target, or the pink ribbon hanging from the top of child’s head, I smile and I feel pink.