Pink is a Mean Girl

She was literally designed to be humiliating. Constantly putting others down, making people feel bad about themselves. Want to work out? Here’s a pink 5lb dumbbell. Feel empowered? Not without pink glitter. And she’s not even real. She doesn’t exist in the natural color spectrum; she’s just the absence of green. A facade. A fake. She has built an empire on this illusion, convincing the world that her softness equals sweetness, that her innocence is genuine. But peel back the layers, and you’ll find a calculated, strategic force that thrives on appearances. She loves a good reaction, whether it be from the sun, chemicals, or embarrassment. We’ll know it from your face that she’s been around. 

The Mean Girls franchise would’ve been nothing without her. “On Wednesdays, we wear pink.” Oh yeah? I'm sure you do. Her power lies in her duality. She’s the color of nurseries and baby showers, the shade we associate with innocence and beginnings. But she’s also the color of vanity and extravagance, of bubblegum pop stars and overpriced cocktails. She knows she’s a spectacle, a force of nature that demands your attention whether you like it or not. She’s a chameleon, shifting her persona to suit her needs, always one step ahead of the rest of us. She is the ultimate mean girl, reigning supreme not because she’s the best, but because she’s made sure no other color can compete.