The perniciousness of pink

We've been watching a bit of Charlie and Lola this week, the girl and I (blame it on the chicken pox). As merchandised-to-hell kids tv shows go, it's rather good (and in fact, the tv programmes work much better for me than the books, which although beautiful to look at don't seem to flow dialogue-wise).

What's really nice though, is having a heroine who isn't a princess, doesn't wear pink all the time, and certainly isn't obsessed with fairies. Lola seems pretty normal - she goes to school, she has an imaginary friend and a best friend, and likes wearing shiny red shoes, going to the park and watching tadpoles. Hallelujah.

I'm so fed up of the whole pink princess girly thing, and M's only three. God knows what'll happen when she's older - we were speculating the other night whether she'd turn into a goth at some point (as opposed to a Goth, which might be rather worrying) in sheer rebellion against the pinkness of it all.

I don't remember it being quite so nauseatingly pink when I was small (although I'm pretty sure I did have a pink stripy top and skirt at some point) - but now, if you go into any high street store it's wall to wall pink/lilac/purple for small girls, complete with fairy wands, sparkly shoes and princess tiaras. Nice some of the time, yes. But some choice (and also the idea that you can achieve more in your life than being a princess) would also be good.

Yearly anti-pink rant over. I'm off to bake a (not-pink) cake.

Pink-tastic

Don't get me started on the perniciousness of pink.

"It felt like I'd woken up in some kind of one-party state (led by Barbie, naturally); a pink dystopia, and no one has even noticed."

It's not that I don't like the colour - hell, I've got a pink jumper, a couple of pink t-shirts and a fair selection of pink underwear...it's just that I think my two-year-old daughter should have a choice of colours to wear. Go into any high street shop or supermarket and everywhere it's pink sparkly fairy princesses with unicorns in tow (how on earth did they creep in?). And as Eleanor Bailey points out, even the clothes that aren't pink have pink flowers or sequins cluttering up the margins.

I've done the best I can - bought 'boys' colours, rummaged in charity shops for things from the 1970s and 80s and scavenged from friends. I refuse to spend a fortune I haven't got in Petit Bateau or Boden (as an aside, if you want to see Boden's latest range in all its finery just go to the Alnwick Garden on a Sunday - it's so wall-to-wall middle-class children, it's hilarious), and I shouldn't have to.

What's even more evil is that pink isn't confined to clothing. Anything aimed at girls, from 1 month upwards seems to only come in the colour pink. Pink books, decor, jigsaws, stickers...you name it, it's pink, floral and sparkly.

The upshot is, you might as well have a permanent sign round your neck that says "I'm a girl, aren't I pretty?" I really don't want that for my daughter - I want her to grow up thinking about other stuff, not just what she looks like. I'm all for celebrating your feminine side, but honestly, give me a break.