Member-only story
Until I did this blunder
Non-members can read here.
Most often pink is categorized as “color of girls”. Even before birth, when couples came to know they are going to have a baby girl, they reveal gender in pink themed parties with pink cake.
After birth, girls are dressed up in pink, their room is decorated with pink paint, pink bed covers, and pink toys.
Contrary to these “pinkish norms”, I was a girl who love black.
Black was more than just a color to me. While others chased the vibrancy of pink, blues, and reds, I found my love and satisfaction in black. It became an emotion, a mood, and a metaphor for my life.
For years, my wardrobe was filled with black dresses. Whether a party wear or a casual wear, I always preferred black. It was a simple yet powerful color. Every black dress, scarf, or a pair of shoes was like a piece of my identity.
When I was shopping for my wedding, my mother feared that I would probably go for a black wedding dress. (lol).
Not only dresses, but I also prefer black in everything. My room theme, bed sheets, mobile, car, birthday cake and every little detail of my life included black.
