A new co-worker of mine, S, a wonderful girl with a great smile and spirit, was wearing a pink jacket last Friday. I asked her if she was into the "Pink Friday" thing. She was.
I once was aware and followed that girly tradition to celebrate the weekend to come. It never lasted long enough for me but while it did, I remember, it did lift my spirit up. Seeing S in that pink jacket that day made me happy simply because there was this bright, flowery being suddenly in that office of ours where dark-suited coworkers roaming around like a buncha ghosts in the horrible lighting. I realized that, aside from the fact that she is a happy and pretty person to begin with, pink makes a girl look happy and pretty.
I was talking with another S recently about how a choice of clothes reflects the feeling that day of the person. I was in a mermaid skirt, which I had rarely done at work, and she said that I must have been feeling feminine and even romantic. I denied it at the time, but now I think I agree with her. And, if I might add to her observation, a choice of color(s) you put on do reflect how you feel, too. And rather importantly, it's contagious; you see someone in a bright color, and it somehow warms your heart.
With that realization, I now feel like putting on more pastels and pink and anything but my regular black, charcoal, grey and navy, with occasional teal (my idea of "bright" color) thrown in: a look that has come to be my uniform, really.
When I started my career in Japan, I was going for the sleek, career-driven woman look. I never had to wear a suit to work until then, and I was actually excited about that. I would keep my chin up, my spine straight and stride down isles of the office, pause, left hand on hip, twist and turn, working my size-0-ass walk in stilettos. In actuality, though, after two years and half of 5-days-a-week-in-a-suit routine, the glamorous dragon woman that I had set out to be has somehow turned into a cold-hearted bitch in size 2 who hasn't gotten laid in a while. And it apparently showed. Whenever I was thinking or concentrating as I worked, S would tell me "Are you OK, Sak?! You look pissed off."
-_-
I was reminded of the time when I once asked my ex one morning if he had had a good enough sleep because he looked "tired." He told me, "That's like telling me I look shitty" all offended. "That's not what I mean," I said right away. You know what? That's exactly what I had frigging meant!
When someone tells you you look pissed off or tired, you probably are pissed off or look shitty. And by shitty I mean incredibly unapproachable or extremely unattractive or both. And until very recently, I really didn't have the heart to care all that much, and I think that's the saddest part.
Anyway, the point of my story is, pink makes me happy right now. The magic color makes a girl look pretty. I don't care if it's a prison jump suit. If it's pink, a girl looks happy in it. And I want to look happy right now.
And I'm gonna start off my pinkness with my bedroom. The sweet pea, in like 5 different pinks, did just a trick.
Until next time,
Sak
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