I never was a fan of parading girls around in pink. It’s not that I don’t like pink. It’s a fabulous color for cotton candy, feather boas, and Virginia ham. But I’ve always had a problem with society’s narrow definitions of beauty and especially femininity. If I was going to have a girl, I didn’t want her to be primped; I wanted her to be empowered. And dressing her all pretty in pink seemed tantamount to leading her around in handcuffs.