stereotypes

Does any color of the rainbow carry a greater stigma in our society than pink? From clothing to toys to—as Read Roger points out—books, if it’s pink it shouts, “I’M FOR GIRLS.” And even more loudly, “I’M NOT FOR BOYS.”

Many girls reject pink, but fewer boys embrace it. And obviously, there’s nothing biological about it. From the 1920s to the 1940s in America, pink was the preferred color for boys, as it was derivative of red; blue was the preferred color for girls. How red translates to “manly” and blue to “delicate,” I’m not sure. Blood? Bluebells? Then, in the 1940s, and just as arbitrarily, the switch was made.

We’re now 60-plus years into the pink=feminine phenomenon, and we’re more entrenched than ever. When I greet the toddlers for storytime, I notice the little boys are dressed in brown, orange, blue, red, green. The little girls? Light pink, dark pink, hot pink. But pink all the way. It’s the color of Barbie and Strawberry Shortcake. It’s the color of Disney Princesses. Don’t be fooled by Belle’s yellow dress or Cinderella’s blue. Go to their website, look at their packaging, and you’ll feel like you’ve been chugging Pepto-Bismol.

Amazing how decades of marketing can make a color so fraught with meaning. (And that’s just the gender aspect.)

As a librarian, I’m concerned by the color pink. It serves its particular role (“I’M FOR GIRLS! NOT BOYS!”), which works really well with books about princesses and fairies and otherwise “girly” topics. But what about books that are not as pink on the outside as they are on the inside? Books that have as much boy appeal as girl appeal except for the pink all over the cover?

Take Into the Wild, by Sarah Beth Durst, a really fun, well-written fantasy that has enough danger and humor and intrigue to easily jump the gender divide. The cover is not only pink and purple, it’s got “girly” swirly patterns all over it. I was hoping the paperback, coming out this spring, would have a cover demonstrating more excitement and danger. Nope. And the upcoming sequel’s pink, too.

Then there’s Jennifer Holm and Matthew Holm’s Babymouse series. All right, so it’s called “Babymouse”—not the most masculine-sounding title ever. But the books are hilarious! Great potential appeal for both boys and girls. Even my husband likes them. Yet, they’re oh-so-very pink.

Ideally, of course, there would be no stigma for boys walking around with pink books. But that’s the polarizing nature of pink. It sells to a particular audience, and scares the others away, by screaming over and over again, “PINK IS FOR GIRLS, NOT BOYS!” Being a “reader” has enough stigma for some kids, especially boys, as it is. Do we really need to scare them off further?

ETA, 3/27/08: Thanks to Jacket Whys for today's round-up on pink books, especially the link to this Times Online article, “How judging a book by its ‘girlie’ cover is putting boys off reading.” Just the kind of thing I'm worried about.