When I was around 10, my mother finally gave me my own room. For most of my life, I shared a room with my sister, who is only 14 months my senior. My sister, for all intense and purposes truly despised most feminine things. She wore jeans when I wore skirts. She stuck to basics, while I leaned to most things patterned and frilly. The same went for our room. But nothing quite got her like the color blue. And well, I stood the same for pink.
For years, she had the blue blanket and accessories and I had the pink. And when my mom split our rooms (ugh, that was SO hard for me!) she painted my sister’s room blue and mine pink. A room of my own, that was true and proud and full of pink.
And when millennial pink was the color that kept on giving (and wouldn’t go away) I found myself cowering in a corner of utter confusion. Like my 10 year old self would curve out of her bedroom and peek her nose around the ledge–hiding the millennial pink that dosed her room. It was funny, because my love of pink never really wavered. And not just any kind of pink–that weird grapefruit comfort of millennial pink.
As a housewarming gift, my friend Kalen of Upstate, gave me a pink duvet cover made with hibiscus flowers, sandalwood and salts. She also threw in a set of 100% silk pillowcases. Silk pillowcases are. must if you gave natural hair! They’re also work wonders on your skin, by keeping up the natural moisture and not drying you out while you’re tossing and turning.
Sometimes when the kids go down, and I’m supremely worn out from the day or evening routine, I found this unique warmth in bedding that is not only comfortable, but truly representative of me. A me that once existed before kids and that also exists in a different form while raising them.
