Pink is my signature colour. If you consult my family and associates, you will discover I am known for my pink shirts. Brooks Brothers OCBDs, to be exact. I own three in the non-non-iron, slim fit style. In certain circles, these shirts are a veritable icon. For me, they are like a second skin.
Pink has long featured in my portfolio. As a young man I wore pink OCBDs and polo shirts from Lacoste and Polo until they fell apart. In fact, I still do. In the banking world of London and New York, I often wore pink dress shirts, usually with a spread collar and double cuffs, as did many of my colleagues.
I find pink striking and conservative at the same time. It complements my blue eyes and skin tone, especially in the summer when I develop a dark tan. My shirts generally receive a positive reception, particularly from women who seem to appreciate pink the most. The women in my life, I have found, actively encourage me to wear pastel colours such as pink, and to grow my hair long. For some men, however, pink is a controversial choice, especially on the West Coast where dark, somber tones such as black and grey predominate in business settings. I occasionally receive curious glances from them when I wear my pink shirts. But, outright hostility is rare. Recently, while queuing for a cup of tea at a local tea shop, I was bemused to overhear a confused little girl ask her mother why a boy was wearing a pink shirt.
In my closet, pink is not limited to just shirts. I occasionally don a well-worn pair of pink twill shorts from Vineyard Vines. And should you rummage round my wardrobe, you will uncover a pair of pink cashmere socks from Paul Stuart. In addition, I will admit, I also have two pairs of pink boxer shorts, whose colour is a result of a laundry mishap.
I wear the pink if not with pride, then with an insouciance borne of experience and trial.