In The Beginning There Was Pink, And Pink Can Be Scary Or Friendly, Depending

Do I talk too much about work? I do, don't I. D'you think? It's just that right now, my personal life needs to remain secret because there's something about words that cements things, and there's this really nice thing going on that I don't want to cement, or maybe I mean jinx. As you probably know, this isn't a matter of privacy. I normally tell all.

So, work:

One of my favorite jobs at the bookstore, aside from unpacking the new CDs, is creating the window displays. Sometimes, if the task is left to me, I'll choose a subject-theme -- I'll stock the window with books about death, say, or books about how to build wooden boats. But the most impactful windows feature books that have some kind of visual theme.

Most recently, I did a window full of pink books. Here are a few of them:






















































A Treatise On Each Title, Based in its Friendliness/Scariness


Zen And the Art of M. M.

I've always been leery of this book, maybe because of the ferocity with which it's been recommended to me over the years. I've started to read it a few times, but I've never gotten far. It's interesting that this particular edition has a pink cover, since the story has lots to do with father-son dudeness. But then again, it's a new-agey tale of self-realization and bonding, which is appropriately pink. And because it's touchy-feely father-son stuff, it's scary.

Disreali Gears

This is a book of sheet music for the Cream album, which I used to listen to over and over again while doing bong hits, back in Seattle. All this happened in my my hot little apartment above Magus Books. I must have sold the album when I joined the Peace Corps. But one day, recently, my coworker bought a bunch of rekkids, and there it was, Disraeli Gears. I put it on and realized that while "Outside Woman Blues" is still a great song, there are a few wearisome tracks. But what a cool pink cover! This music is a psychedelic pink that strives to place itself, socially, on the outside and inside at once. This aspect of pinkness, self-exploration via rock, is friendly.

My Face For The World To See

This book is padded and features a lock. It's Candy Darling. Scary.

Survival Into The 21st Century

I see this one a lot, even though it's out of print. At some point, pretty much everyone who lived in Northern California had a copy of this book and a set of Peter Max towels and a jar of dried red beans. The line-drawings of nude people within the book's pages are a weensy bit scary, as is the term "survivalist". But the purpose of this book is to get people to eat health food, and what's wrong with health food? I deem this title friendly.

My Fair Lady

I used to take private opera-singing lessons from the one professional singer in the weensy town I grew up in. Her name was Maxine Fortune, a woman well into her sixties who wore a wild black wig. Her eyebrows, which she must have painted on every morning, were also black and severely arched, giving her this constant startled expression.

Every year our local theater put on a musical and no matter what, Maxine Fortune took the female lead part. One year they did My Fair Lady. I'll never forget it.

If that's scary not enough, look at the book's cover. Double scary.

Persepolis

This is Marjane Satrapi's graphic-novel-memoir of the author's life in Iran during the Islamic revolution. Fascinating. Cool. Friendly.

Herbs & Things

The author of this book, Jeanne Rose, is pretty much the expert on herbs & within these pages you'll learn, among other things, how to treat your syphilis using essential oils. Her books aren't easy to come by, but lots of people 'round here have them. Friendly.

Frida by Frida

The eyebrows: scary. Otherwise, friendly.

Happiness is a Warm Puppy

This one reminds me of my aunt because she had Peanuts posters all over her walls. She was ten years older than my, had hair down to her waist, wore leather miniskirts, and listened to Pink Floyd. I was in awe. Naturally, then, friendly.

Child No More

This memoir is by former Penthouse writer Xaviera Hollander, and by virtue of not having a lock or being padded, I'd call it non-scary. And when I think of the juxtaposition of the title with the cover photo, which is kind of funny because it seems as though those eyes are trying to support the titular assertion that Ms. Hollander is, indeed, no longer a child I have to err on the side of friendly.

Harold and the Purple Crayon

Okay, Harold reminds me of Casper the Friendly Ghost. Now think about it. Casper was a dead five-year-old boy with the bald head of an infant, and he wanted to get friendly with you. SCARY. Harold has all of Casper's creepiness, plus he's writing all over your walls. Harold is asking for it. He's like the kid at the slumber party who sleeps with his eyes open. He wants things from you. And you can't tell him to get the fuck away from you because he's only a child. Scary.

k k k

Which Is Just To Say

I have a love-hate kind of thing with the color pink because pink bears a certain significance having tons to do with roles. When I was a very little girl I adored all things pink and was encouraged mightily to do so. But skip ahead to my fifth birthday, a sort of milestone for most children because at five, we begin to be people in our own minds. At that point in my life, pink became a system of expectations that oppressed me. I traded my pink for black, much to my mother's horror. But once I became an adult, pink morphed into something with a significance I could define in my own terms instead of allowing it to define me, and I found that I enjoyed playing with these notions, and that's how I became ing.

Or, In Other Words

Pink is friendly and scary at the same time. That's why I like it.