First things first guys; I hate pink. Like, hate it. I think the last time I wore a pink dress willingly was in 1990 at my grandparents’ wedding anniversary. I was three and, looking back at the pictures, I didn’t really look like a girl who was happy with her sartorial decision.
As I’ve grown up, my wardrobe has shed it’s colours faster than a cheap top left on the hot wash for too long. Now, my wardrobe (sorry clothes rail, because who can afford a wardrobe) is all black across the board. There's one little glimpse of orange which belongs to a really nice Whistles skirt I got for a tenner at a jumble sale. Know how often I’ve worn that this year? Twice. And both times I felt uncomfortable as hell.
I’m not sure when I started buying exclusively black clothes. I think somewhere along the way I decided that blending into the background was easier, that worrying about whether I was being noticed in a good way or a bad way was one extra stress that I didn’t want to deal with. Plus, as I got older and my body stopped being one that could consume it’s own body weight in pizza and stay a size eight, black started being a way of hiding it.
Over the years, I’ve convinced myself that I’m wearing black because it’s sleek and chic, which, in turn I hope, projects an image of 'togetherness' to my friends and colleagues. Whereas in actual fact I probably look like a miserable git who's struggling to get over her goth phase from high school. It’s the same thing I know I'm guilty of doing when it comes to my personality; 'sarcastic' and 'lofty' actually covers up ‘scared shitless of everything and everyone’.
So, the other day when my editor asked me to wear pink for a few days, I laughed, then I said yes, then I got really scared. Agreeing to wear pink in public felt like I'd agreed to take my clothes off, walk down Regent Street singing Nicki Minaj's Anaconda while everyone I'd ever snogged gave me marks out of ten. Of course rational me knew that literally no-one would give a shit, but self-obsessed, over-thinker me? She was freaking the fuck out.
Anyway, here’s how it went.
Day 1: Vintage Pink
My main problem with this outfit wasn’t the luridty of the pink (I actually quite liked it – probably because it had black bits on it), it was how damn short it was, something that I definitely didn’t realise until it was too late and I had nothing else to wear. I pinned my hair back in a way I hoped was very Sally Draper (because dressing like a child is always a fantastic idea on anyone north of 25) and texted my boyfriend a picture going ‘AHHHH’. Rather than laughing, he texted back going ‘Awwww!’ which considering he’s very Northern and has said I look nice about twice in seven years is quite an achievement.
In work there were more compliments, although I did get one (male) ‘that’s VERY short.’ Not that that stopped me from feeling awkward. My co-worker Natalia found me in the street tugging on the hem of the dress and trying to wrap my coat in a way that concealed as much of the colour as possible. Wherever I walked I shuffled, hoping a comedy walk would denote to the world 'I AM DOING AN EXPERIMENT THIS ISN'T HOW I NORMALLY DRESS'. When I got home later my female flatmates (who I hadn’t told about the experiment) burst out laughing with shock before agreeing that while it was very un ‘me’, they thought it made a nice change and I seemed like a more approachable person.
Day 2: Girly pink
Girly pink is the most feared of all the pinks for me. I hate it with abandon. I have never really known how to do make-up, am a bit scared of heels and have bitten my nails for nigh on 27 years now. In short; I don’t know how to ‘girl’ and I was pretty sure that if I tried, I’d get laughed at. In the end, I felt a bit blah in this; even though it’s a lovely dress, I felt about as edgy as a marshmallow and very unlike myself. Although that’s not what other people said. Heading out for a drink with an old colleague, she told me I seemed brighter as a person, with a bit more ‘sparkle’, whereas Rebecca my boss said I seemed more positive.
Day 3: Fashion pink
This was my fave. Mainly because it’s the silhouette I’d wear normally, just in a different colour. By now I wasn’t scared anymore; mainly because I hadn't noticed any extra attention from people and I was realising that no-one really cared. Today was a big day though in the fact that I went on ASOS and, for the first time in forever I didn't just tick the ‘blue’ ‘white’ and ‘black’ boxes. Turns out there’s a lot of nice clothes that aren’t those three colours. Who knew? (All of you, it turns out). Heading home after work I looked at my black clothes and I felt a bit sad at how drab I’d been looking all these years. Like a terrible relationship, it’s only when you get some distance that you realise how silly you’ve been behaving.
So, overall I feel like a bit of a dick for being so committed to one colour. I also feel like a bit of a dick for thinking any colour other than black would make people look at me like a harlot/boring person. Will I go back to wearing black? Probably, mainly because I haven't got enough money to buy a whole new wardrobe. What I am going to try and do though is not wear ALL black, because life's too short to be blending into the background and, it turns out, there's nothing wrong with looking a little bit girly.
Like this? Then you might also be interested in:
'Wedding Dress Shopping Is Shit' Calling Bullshit On The Magic Of Bridal Appointments
'I Blew My Meagre Student Budget On Fast Fashion' Confessions Of A Shopaholic
Follow Jess on Twitter @Jess_Commons
This article originally appeared on The Debrief.