Pink was a girl pretty in her dress, a child curved into her waist, a family waiting to be fed. Pink is the default color for women, handed to them as an imposition: a way to represent sensitivity, emotional depth, a rose-tinted view of the world, and underneath it all, an assumption of physical weakness. This is what pink was built to look like: submissive, domestic, decorative, and passive, all packaged as “pretty”. But pink is on the far side of the horizon from just being pretty. The way we engage with the color, from typecasting to reclamation, looking and feeling pretty in pink, all is political.
Historically, if someone were prompted with the word “pink” in a Freudian free-association exercise, they would likely have responded with words like “feminine” or “frivolous.” This rigid linkage stems from an insecure, narrowly defined sense of gender, people who resort to projecting softness and fragility onto women. Hence, pink, more than a color, is an extensive metaphor for frailty and fragility. This puts meaning to how men, over the years, have refused to include pink in their closet, and condemning men who do, even questioning their masculinity. Pink’s rule applied to makeup and beauty products as well, made for one specific gender, with anyone else who used them looked down upon.
Rouge as Resistance
In the Victorian era, it was only acceptable for women to apply soft, subdued colors for natural blush and glow. Loud colors like red and brown were heavily discouraged because they spoke of boldness that wasn’t considered womanly enough. In response, women who breathed in rebelliousness, started wearing dark makeup to defy the softness imposed on them. Women made use of rouge in their daily lives as a micro-rebellious practice to defy patriarchal control. Eventually, red became the symbol of feminist resistance and was used in several political movements thereafter.
Who Gets to Wear It
South Korea is one of the largest beauty markets in the world with its men investing more in good skincare than men elsewhere. From hydration to gentle exfoliation to double cleansing, they follow detailed skincare routines as their values speak of a well-groomed appearance. South Korea, with its iconic pop bands and shows, holds generous influence over the world. When everyone’s beloved K-pop idols endorse a flawless skincare routine, naturally, they will. This makes it socially acceptable, even aspirational, for men to have a skincare routine and a skin that is soft and clear. “Soft and clear”, characteristics associated with pink and dismissed as “feminine”, became aspirational for men too.
Pushing that narrative further, Indian makeup artists like Ankush Bahuguna are using their platforms to normalize men wearing makeup outright, unapologetically, beyond just skincare. Their content fluidly represents beauty as genderless by default, breaking societal norms, and normalizing men wearing makeup. In doing so, they’re reclaiming everything pink was built for.
Pink has been an asset in drag culture, rather than a limitation. Drag queens use pink loudly in makeup and outfits, expressing their femininity so confidently, solidifying their identity to the world without a hint of vacillation.
This reclamation, turning a color once used to diminish women into a symbol of power, is deeply rooted in LGBTQ+ history. During the Nazi era, gay men were forced to wear a pink triangle as a badge of shame in concentration camps. Decades later, activists flipped that same triangle upright and reclaimed it as a symbol of pride and resistance, especially during the AIDS crisis.
How Beauty Industry Reclaimed Pink
When the Barbie movie hit theaters in 2023, beauty brands drove the pink wave. NYX launched a full Barbie-themed makeup collection, OPI released matching nail polishes, and pink briefly took over every beauty shelf in sight. Pink was sold as more than just “pretty”.
Around the same time, more beauty brands began dropping the ‘for her’ label altogether. Genderless makeup lines, foundation, blush, and lip tints marketed to everyone, not just women, started becoming common, establishing that softness and color were never really about gender to begin with.
And this reclamation isn’t new. MAC’s Viva Glam lipstick, fronted by RuPaul back in 1994, funded HIV/AIDS research with every tube sold. Estée Lauder’s pink ribbon, born at makeup counters in 1992, became the world’s symbol for breast cancer awareness. Long before Barbie made it a trend, pink was already standing strong on its potential to carry more weight than “frivolous” could ever mean.
Pink, As It Is
Makeup is no longer associated with gender. Men and women alike are encouraged to embrace what they love best. Showing up with a no-makeup makeup look to a wedding is just as acceptable as wearing a bold red lip to the office. As long as it comes from personal conscience, not from societal expectations. Pink is a woman in sequin pants and blue eyeshadow. Pink is a man with a collection of lip tints. Pink is them, all glittery in the color of love. Pink is freedom, power, and strength. Pink is not frivolity, but rather the absence of it. After a history of reducing the color to weakness, of narrowing it down to qualities assigned to women, feeling pretty in pink is political.