Pink is often associated with childishness. The pink bedroom walls of young girls, like the teddy sleeping next to them, are a token of girly-girl innocence constructed by parents based on societies wishes. That's why, when a girl is coming of age, teddy is beheaded and those pink walls are covered with famous faces. Famous faces who from now on will act as a guidance in taste and behaviour. It's a new age where the bubble of childhood must burst so a sense of independance and personal growth can kick in.


Pink therefore becomes a stupid colour for childish girls desperately clinging to their beheaded teddies. "Grow up! Pink is stupid! And so is your teddy!", the others yell dragging their headless teddies through the mud and stacking their lifeless bodies onto a campfire. They stay and watch them burn, possesively chanting kumbaya, with the face of their first celebrity crush looming over their left shoulder. Pink is a colour of the past. Pink is the colour of girls who don't grow up.

From girl-ism to gender neutral

However pink isn't just the colour of girly-girl innocence. And it isn't always abandoned by those who choose to behead, drag and burn their teddies. Because it's part of a clear gender identification between the two sexes most acknowledgded within society, pink can grow into an enhanced portrayal of girl-ism. Although those pink walls are covered, the token of girly-girl innocence still looms as a moral code over the behavioural instincts and actions printed into the pinkish minds.

Pink is therefore the base-line actively subverted by so called tomboys, doing everything they can to disassociate their existence from their girly-girl past, and highly magnified by grown up girly-girls personified in a (sometimes toxic) double act of Barbies and famous faces. It creates a tension and easily adaptable identification inflated by sociocultural codes.


So it's very interesting that out of all the colours that could be picked, it's our very own pink that dominates current off- and mainstream culture. Although millennial pink isn't every shade of pink, it certainly is defined by a range of pink shades. It's a colour scheme, according to the media, that already appeared in 2014 but really risen to fame last summer.[1]

"This pink is different", claims Lauren Schwartzberg in her millenial pink article. "For one thing, with Millennial Pink, gone is the girly-girl baggage; now it's androgynous. (...) It's been reported that at least 50 percent of millennials believe that gender runs on a spectrum - this pink is their genderless mascot."[2] And although it's not a specific pink that's being referred to, it sticks because it embodies an idea instead of just an aesthetic choice. That's also why everyone is writing about it, writes Nancy Mitchell in her article about millennial pink. She connects millennial pink to contemporary feminism.

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Unlike Barbie pink

Pink still is heavily connotated with a clear feminine gender identification. However this idea gets subverted not by playing with opposite (tomboy) signs, but by -quite literally- toning the pink down. Mitchell: "It is, in a lot of ways, defined more by what it isn't than what it is: Not Barbie. Not bubble gum. Not princessy."[3]


This way millennial pink, unlike Barbie pink and the likes, embraces a certain femininity. Pink is used as a way to redefine what this femininity nowadays entails. Existentialism famously is pleated as a humanism, and feminism in this way tries to further develop and rebrand itself as a humanism too.


Because of the dominant FEMININE-associations that comes with the word feminism, oppositional positions are often taken (and exaggerated) against either societal favoured gender (within the media). By confiding to the first feminine associative colour and running away with it to a wider audience, these associations -over time- become less definitive. But it must be clear that just like a H&M top with 'Feminism is for everyone' on it, the excessive use of millennial pink within (social) media could also be part of popularism; playing into the pockets and likes instead of the morals and ethics. Because of its popularity the colour can lose its message like a dumbfounded Millennial discovering that Nirvana isn't a fashion brand but a 1990s grunge band (it's the age cap and overwritten marketing denotations no one can avoid).

Will the future be pink?

If you're a millennial pink lover, you most likely make the genius combination with green -preferebly some kind of cactus or succulent- to enhance your Instagram feed. And that's no coincidence (besides, you know, the aesthetic pleasure you get out of it), Pantone predicts that green will be the new it-colour representing the Trump years.[4]

Green, throughout history, is one of the most toxic colours to reproduce. In the 19th century potassium and white arsenic were used mixed with copper turmeric to make a beautiful bright green pigment to dye fabric with. However this beautiful and VERY TOXIC bright green poisoned the wearer and those around them causing headaches, rashes and sometimes even death. Luckily in 1860 the use of arsenic was banned, but there are still dresses found that were dyed with this deathly cocktail after the ban.[5]
Although green is one of my favourite colours, you can't escape the ironic connection between this poisonous history and the use of it as a front line colour for Trump. Unless green becomes symbolically significant to Trump's reign (which is unlikely or ironic in itself considering his stance on climate change), I think there's still hope for it to stay what it is: a perfect combination with (millennial) pink; protesting against all the bogus in the world and simultaneously creating an idealistic and aesthetically pleasing environment. Although teddy heads may roll, pink walls will hopefully help to break stigma and stimulate togetherness. And, most importantly, nice looking Instagram feeds.

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Sources:
[1] The Guardian, "Millennial Pink is the colour of now - but what exactly is it?" (22 March 2017), https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/shortcuts/2017/mar/22/millennial-pink-is-the-colour-of-now-but-what-exactly-is-it.
[2] L. Schwartzberg, "Why Millennial Pink Refuses to Go Away" (19 March 2017), https://www.thecut.com/2017/03/why-millennial-pink-refuses-to-go-away.html.
[3] N. Mitchell, "The Real Reason No One Can Shut Up About Millennial Pink" (10 May 2017), http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/the-real-reason-no-one-can-shut-up-about-millennial-pink-244900.
[4] See note 2.
[5] B.M. du Mortier, "Groen en gevaarlijk: boeken over de geschiedenis van kleur" (14 March 2017), https://www.modemuze.nl/blog/groen-en-gevaarlijk-boeken-over-de-geschiedenis-van-kleur.

Fashion, in many ways, is a bodily experience. A soft cotton-like fabric gliding against your skin or the movement of your legs captured by the width of your skirt underlines this idea. However in recent years fashion has become more than just something to adorn the body with. Fashion has become conceptual and perhaps even ideological, concentrating around creating an evocative and authentic experience. Nowadays a silk dress attaching itself to your waist like butter is but a brushstroke on a much bigger painting.[1]

Fashion fictim

Through Modemuze I was invited to go see MAISON the FAUX at Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week Amsterdam (MBFWA). MAISON the FAUX is a 'fictional' fashion house founded in 2014, making its debut that same year on the MBFWA catwalk. The house is under artistic and commercial direction of Joris Suk and Tessa de Boer, former students of the renowned ArtEZ Institute of the Arts (same school that produced names like Viktor&Rolf, Iris van Herpen and Marcel Wanders).

"Central is their love for fashion and their rather un-Dutch visualisation of this."

MAISON the FAUX tries to hold up a mirror of the modern fashion system through archetypes and clichés so they can "strip them down, expand them and make them their own."[2] Central to this reinterpretation is their love for fashion and their rather un-Dutch visualisation of this.

'Experience' can therefore be seen as the key-word to their collections. As Tessa de Boer said in an interview with Modemuze: "The way we approach things is generally the same, but for the execution we choose something different. That could be fashion but also designing an exhibition or staging a performance. We're not dependent on one thing which makes our label very flexible."[3]*

*Translation mine.

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Something different

For someone who's a fashion show-newbie, MAISON the FAUX certainly knows how to draw you into their world. A futuristic world this time with -what seems like- tanning beds and neon lights inside a former factory hall creating a clair obscur that, well, can only be described as futuristic. The room reminded me in some way of being captured in a video game similar to the 2010 Tron: Legacy film (I've never seen the original 1982 film, but it's basically the same). Which also in some way seems appropiate as we, after the lights went out, are introduced to the so called FAUXmosapien.

What is a FAUXmosapien? Well it's naturally the new life ahead of us. And no, they are not tanning beds, they are actually pods so we can be incubated and begin our 'journey of reinvention'. As the introduction video states: the tanning beds provides you with a "radiation that gives you more than a glow."[4] So welcome to the new world and welcome as a new species. We've got incubation pods and neon lights, what's not to like?

For an overview of the looks shown on the catwalk click here (so you know what I'm talking about...).

Candyman

So how is a FAUXmosapien dressed? Apparently in pastel, with vertical stripes elongating the FAUX body, supported by fluffy mules or thigh-high latex boots; one in silver and one in black. Certainly a different take on the many possibilities I held possible within the neon-atmosphere. But funnily enough the FAUXmosapien easily blends into the high-budget spa on a space ship.

"Models with a glow on their cheeks that can only say 'I'm out of this world'."

The baby pinks and blues sported by the models, with a glow on their cheeks that can only say 'I'm out of this world', is equal to a sweet tooth decaying under its own sugar rush. Underlined by fishnet tights and the showing of skin, the FAUXmosapien isn't just a mace of mirrors and self-consciousness shown by the fashion house. While the stage is busy creating a culturally known backdrop of progress and invention, the clothes are more reminiscent of early 2000 aesthetics. In this case particularly the borrowed party-gear of miss 2000 herself, Paris Hilton (perhaps the greatest FAUXmosapien of her time).


All in all I can say that this show was quite the experience. The fleeting world of fashion was almost literally washed away by raindrops welcoming us back into the 'real' world. The incubation pods became tanning beds again and the floating fabric forced by the fierce walk of the models were rushed away to the eternal darkness. Or whatever there is behind the curtain. We're back to the uncomfortable feeling of wet fabric rubbing against our skin and dictating our bodily experience.


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Sources:
[1] S. van de Polder, 'Mode, kostuums en dagelijkse kleding in Nederlandse musea', Volkskunde nr 4 (2014), p. 553-558.
[2] Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week Amsterdam, "MAISON the FAUX", https://fashionweek.nl/en/designer/314/maison-faux.
[3] D. van der Wouw, "In gesprek met: Tessa de Boer (MAISON the FAUX)" (28 June 2017), https://www.modemuze.nl/blog/gesprek-met-tessa-de-boer-maison-faux.
[4] Maison The Faux, "FAUXMOSAPIEN" (16 July 2017), Youtube video, 1:07, https://youtu.be/w8wAiypATeo.

"Why aren't you happy?", my mother asks me. We're standing in the bathroom. I've finally calmed down after I -what only can be described as- loosed my shit. And indeed, why aren't I smiling like all the others on Facebook. With one hand occupied by a glass of champagne and the other with a balloon happily stating my academic success: you're offically a cultural heritage professional! Whoop-dee-whoop!

"Congratulations and celebrations are the last thing on my mind."

No. Instead we're standing in the bathroom. Me and my mum. While the air surrounding the smiling people is filled with confetti and cheers, my surrounding is filled with tears and a certain desperation. Congratulations and celebrations are the last thing on my mind. My happiness is taken hostage by a lack of endorphins. And, if things weren't already looking bad, their demands for a safe return are lost in translation. Or rather: are unclear due to an imaginary demanding voice declaring all the reasons why I don't deserve champagne, balloons, confetti and cheers. Not least for my inability to fake a smile.

The girl who has it all

Four months. It's been four whole months since my last blogpost. Although in the mean time there have been some changes made to for instance the lay-out and pages (I've got a FAQ page now!), it's been rather quiet around here. Naturally I had good reason for my silence. For one I'm now officially a cultural heritage professional and, for two, will be going to university to study Gender Studies. But to be able to achieve both those things I needed my full attention. I wanted to make sure that absolutely nothing was going to stand in my way. That little piece of paper was going to be mine, one way or another.

"And now I did it. I did it. And now?"

I've had a to-do list stuck on my forehead. I was blinded by the overwhelming task upon task. My full attention went to ticking every box that was on it. And now I did it. I did it. And now? I'm left with this indefinable feeling. A certain emptiness towards my achievements. Although this feeling isn't new and slowly fading away, there's still no confetti and cheers filling the air. A fact that baffles me but isn't surprise party startling.


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Do what makes you happy

So what can someone achieve in four months? Well...

1. You can do a combined internship at Modemuze (collaboration project between 13 museums with fashion/costume collections) and the Museum of Bags and Purses (one of the Modemuze-partners).
2. You can help build an exhibition called It's a Men's World (until 27 August 2017) all about men and their bags. And get your name on the wall for everyone to see.
3. You can do research for the next exhibition (all still very hush hush, sorry!)
4. You can do some more research to the online (digital) and offline (physical) experience of visitors at the first Modemuze exhibition at the OBA and write a report about your findings.
5. You can hand this all in and write a paper about the process behind your research.
6. You can be invited to join the editorial team of Modemuze.
7. You can get a degree in Cultural Heritage, specialising in Narrative Space and fashion museology. No biggie.

AND you can get accepted to university... These four months just keeps on giving... So why the long face? Why no Facebook-bragging, champagne throwing and back patting until your skin is rainbow coloured? It beats me. (pun intended).

#firstworldproblems

I've written this last part many times, many ways, but somehow I can't justify my feelings without either sounding ungrateful or building up/building down my accomplishments. The list above is entirely self-indulgent and self-rainbow-patting. I AM being dramatic. So let this be a sign of me distancing myself from the crying *drama queen* in the bathroom and embracing the next step of my life.

"Maybe it's a good start to say: stop whining, start doing."

Although I've delayed this 'first' post for a very long time (as I want to make this blog bigger and better), maybe it's a good start to say: stop whining, start doing. Because ultimately who cares? I care. But for you this whole blogpost is just a nod of 'oh she isn't dead, yet' and hopefully 'oh I look forward to her next real post'.


I recently read somewhere that if you feel wronged, sad or mad, it's even more important to share love, happiness and goodness (although your heart wants to act on its bitter feelings). One is allowed to cry in the bathroom, but one is not allowed to drown the world in a bathtub and call it a day. Certainly not as one is grieving success instead of loss.

So now I did it. I did it. And now? Now I'm going to work on what makes me happy, hopefully adding a few more successes to the list. I'm going to bloody university and do my utmost best to make it the best. I'm going to blog about things that interests me and that hopefully interests you too (think fashion, museums and maybe even the odd pop cult reference here and there). And maybe I will finally post a cringe worthy and bragging Facebook post with champagne, balloons, confetti and cheers. And maybe even with a genuine smile on my face... combined with eyes that scream 'help me'. SPREAD THE JOY!

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