When you think about it, a colour having a gender seems like an absurd concept, and yet it is our reality – but I feel I must rephrase this slightly, for it might be more accurate to say that colours don’t have genders per say, but can be used to denote very strong gendered constructs. This is particularly relevant with the colour pink, which has come to represent all things conforming to the patriarchal feminine “ideal” – pink symbolises femininity, weakness, a delicate or fragile nature, dependence, softness, gentleness, passivity, superficial prettiness, the domestic, and much more. I find it interesting that in our supposedly ‘woke’ day and age, pink and blue are still being used in gender reveal parties (a rather ridiculous concept, in my opinion) – which not only reaffirms the gendered connotations of the colours, but primitively intertwines sex and gender, which are actually two very different things (sex is biological and gender is purely social – to know more about the difference click here).
But how did pink come to symbolise the feminine? Was it always this way? Who gave pink such a distinct identity?
For the purpose of this article, we’ll look at the Western evolution of the colour pink, which then seeped into Indian culture after an influx of Western influences – in ancient India, pink was actually a colour of royalty and grandeur because the dye to create it was particularly expensive. Even in the West, it was not uncommon for men in the 18th century to wear pink silk suits with floral embroidery – for pink was considered to be a derivation from red, which symbolised strength, being a ‘warlike’ colour. Lighter, pastel pinks were used to denote youth and health, which meant that in those days pink was worn more by the young than the elderly.
As for when pink became a gendered colour ascribed to babies, that was a phenomenon which began in much more recent times – as late as the 20th century. Till the mid-19th century, children up till the age of six were typically clothed in white, with white being the easiest colour to clean and bleach. It was in the mid-19th century that pastels were introduced as colours for babies, and only in the 20th century did the conversation of ‘sex-appropriate’ colours for babies begin.
When this happened, the previous connotations of the colour pink as symbolising strength and vitality came into play, and pink was actually assigned to baby boys, with blue being assigned to girls as the more ‘delicate’ colour. The switch that led to the assigned colours we are familiar with today (pink for girls and blue for boys) happened sometime in the 1940s-50s. Historians haven’t pinpointed the exact reason for this change, but there are several theories, the first being the use of the colour pink post World War II, in an effort to re-establish traditional gender roles. It was during this time that women, who had contributed significantly to the war effort, were once again being forced back into the domestic confines of their homes, and eliminated from the workforce. At this time, advertisements began to use pink to denote femininity, with extra emphasis on women being dressed in lacy, frilly, and colourful clothes to reinforce the gender gap (men were dressed in more simple, neutral coloured clothes).
The 1950s were also a time when conformative ideologies were being aggressively propagated, and strict gendered boundaries were expected to be upheld – this extended to clothing as well, which significantly furthered the separation of colours and styles into ‘male’ and ‘female’.
(I will briefly digress to mention that this rigid conformity was also a prevalent factor in diagnosing mental illness – at this experimental period in the field of psychiatry several critics began to question whether the diagnosis of mental illness was truly clinical or simply a term used to isolate those who did not conform to social rules. This is, in fact, the underlying question in Ken Kesey’s famous book, One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, which was a reflection of these times.)
When the US first lady Mamie Eisenhower wore a pink gown as her inaugural dress, that seemed to cement the categorisation of pink as a feminine colour.
Another theory behind the highly feminine association with the colour pink could also stem from the Nazis, who used pink triangles to identify “sexual deviants”, typically homosexual and bisexual men, and transgender women. In the 1970s, gay rights activists re-appropriated the pink triangle to symbolise their cause. However, this could have also enhanced the taboo around the colour, leading to a heightened need for heterosexual (and most likely homophobic) men to further distance themselves from the colour.
However, in the ’60s and ‘70s, women’s liberation groups began to raise awareness for their rights, and spurned the colour pink as a symbol of everything that was holding them down (some claim that this active targeting of the colour pink only served to further cement its association with the feminine). This created a wave of gender-neutral baby clothing, as parents embraced non-conformative, non-gendered colours and styles for their children.
Yet in the 1980s gendered baby clothing boomeranged back into prominence, and stores were once again filled with pink clothing and toys for girls, and blue for boys. Why? There is a theory that around this time, pre-natal sex identification technology made its appearance, which prompted marketers to seize this potential sales opportunity and sell gendered products to expecting parents in preparation for their child’s arrival. It worked – gendered baby products skyrocketed, and once again baby girls were clad in the pink colour that denoted all the qualities deemed appropriate for females.
The story may seem to end here, for this behaviour continues to this day, but it is important to note that the colour pink once again seems to be undergoing a metamorphosis, with it being used as a symbol for Breast Cancer Awareness, on the transgender flag, and even being worn by women as a reclamation of their own definitions of femininity.
Nevertheless, one thing is for certain – there is no other colour that can compete with pink in terms of its cultural relevance and ever-dynamic symbolism.
Works Cited
Broadway, Anna. “Pink Wasn’t Always Girly” The Atlantic. April 13th, 2013. Web. < https://www.theatlantic.com/sexes/archive/2013/08/pink-wasnt-always-girly/278535/ > as seen on June 21st, 2022.
Grannan, Cydney. "Has Pink Always Been a “Girly” Color?" Encyclopedia Britannica, Web. < https://www.britannica.com/story/has-pink-always-been-a-girly-color > as seen on June 21st, 2022.
Phillips, Ken. “The Colour Pink – History, Meaning and Facts” Hunter Lab. May 17th, 2021. Web. < https://blog.hunterlab.com/blog/color-and-appearance-theory/the-color-pink/#:~:text=History%20of%20the%20Color%20Pink,symbol%20of%20class%20and%20luxury. > as seen on June 21st, 2022.
Mauney, Anna Claire. “The Colour Pink: A Cultural History” Art & Object. February 11th, 2022. Web. < https://www.artandobject.com/news/color-pink-cultural-history > as seen on June 21st, 2022.
Celestie, Sofia. “Why Pink Will Always Be The Colour That Shocks, Entices and Enthralls” Vogue. June 10th, 2021. Web. < https://en.vogue.me/fashion/history-of-pink/ > as seen on June 21st, 2022.