When I was a little girl, I remember for some reason I took a dislike to pink. Possibly because of my stubborn I-want-to-be-different-than-you determination and the fact that most of my little girl friends loved pink. Perhaps because as a little girl, I was expected to like pink and I had a contradictory nature. Or, it could have been that pink usually came in dusty pastels or dusky roses, and I preferred bright, happy, punchy colors.
For whatever reason, I subtly avoided pink well into my teen and adult years, and it became so automatic that I didn’t notice it until I realized that I had very little of the color in my wardrobe. But yesterday I remedied that issue when I thrifted this kind of amazing dress, which has everything a girl could want — polka dots, a swingy skirt, an elastic waistline, and an 80’s-does-50’s flair — and pink has officially made it back into my vast lineup of dresses. I do have this dusty rose 1970’s gown, but it’s not something I’d wear every day and while I adore it, the color isn’t my first pick.
This polka-dotted glory of a dress, though, I will wear well into the summer until my belly stretches far enough that it’s impossible, and perhaps even then a bit longer.
I thought it fitting to wear pink today, too, on the day marking the exact middle of my pregnancy; 20 weeks in, 20 weeks to go. In four and a half months, I will be holding a baby girl in my arms — my very own, for the first time — and I already know that she will be so inundated by the color that has somehow been marked as her gender’s identifying shade that she will probably come to avoid it just as much as I did when I was small. Lately, I have been at a crossroads in regards to what I want to do with my hair. It’s currently hitting my shoulder blades, and I’m extremely tempted to cut it off. On one hand, I love having long, slightly wild hair that I can style in braids or curl or let run free when I’m feeling more like a hippie. On the other hand, the ends have so much damage from being bleached two years ago, and most days it’s frizzy/tangled and a pain to deal with. Plus, I want to be able to style my hair a bit more 50’s, and it’s hard to do that with long hair. If I did cut it, it would be a similar length to Ashley’s (who has been a huge style inspiration for me lately; her retro look is bang-on these days!) so I’d still have some length, just not this long-goddess-hair I’m used to.
Dress, scarf, belt, and shoes, thrifted | earrings, grandma’s.
I don’t know. I always wish I had longer hair when it’s shorter, and shorter hair when it’s longer, and I’m pregnant and it’s hard to make decisions when you’re pregnant.
In the end, hair does grow. So there’s that. And most days I end up shoving my hair into a bun because it’s too unruly to deal with. And I really do hate brushing long hair. I might have talked myself into this. I guess time will tell.