I remember when I first made up my mind to hate the color pink. I had never really been a fan, but one glance at my 4th grade class pictures sealed the deal. The dark fuchsia pants and pale pink button-down shirt that I had on in the picture was the furthest thing from flattering. I looked like a strawberry-scented James Dahl character with ill-fitting pleated pants and an overly starched and rigid top. The style of the clothes was bad, but the Pepto Bismol shades were worse. I decided right then and there that pink and I were getting a divorce. For good.
As the years went by, life provided me with more reasons to hate pink. Frustration over society-defined gender roles piled on as did annoyance at the image of ultimate feminine woman. And then came the big one.
Breast cancer.
My mom passed away after a six-year long battle with breast cancer at the age of 45.
When pink later became symbolic of breast cancer awareness, I wanted to punch some pink piggies. I know that some people choose to wear pink to honor or remember or show support for a loved one. That is not what I get my panties in a bunch about--it's the way corporate America has grabbed that pink flag and waved it to and fro for their own profit that makes me furious.
I remember once standing in the grocery store and staring at a bag of pink ribbon-adorned M&Ms, my blood boiling harder with every passing second. I held the bag in my hands looking for an indication that Mars at least was planning to give some money to the cause. I found that they had promised to donate $0.50 for each bag sold to the Susan B. Komen Foundation (there was a ceiling to the amount they would donate, but I don't remember what it was just that it was pretty low). That's all fine and dandy, but the hypocrisy of it all still screamed at me. There isn't much you can do to prevent breast cancer, but a healthy lifestyle is high up on that list. Do we have to fund an organization that aims to cure breast cancer by slapping a pink ribbon on a bag of something that can contribute to obesity? Really?
Of course we do--slapping a pink ribbon on a product is a great way for a company to profit. There has been plenty of media coverage about 3M's "effective" use of cause marketing. They once reportedly spent $500,000 marketing their giant pink ribbon made out of pink Post-It Notes that benefited the cause, but then only donated $300,000 to that cause. That begs the question how much did they actually make from all of that advertising?
Enough to encourage other companies to dabble in the pink ribbon fun.
Now there are pink ribbons on everything all through the month of October. You'd think by looking around that millions and millions and millions of dollars are being funneled towards finding a cure, but then there's that whole thing where cause marketing isn't regulated. That means a company can slap a pink ribbon on something in the name of "awareness" and not donate a single penny.
Awareness? AWARENESS? I'm pretty sure every person on this planet is aware of what breast cancer can do. I'm also sure pretty much every person knows that early detection is best. Has anyone's life ever actually been saved by a stupid pink ribbon on a box of Lean Cuisine pasta? By the way, the answer is "no" because the company did not donate one single cent just because you bought that box marked with pink. Or maybe it did save a life. I'm sure at least one woman walked into a grocery store, saw that box, and suddenly realized NOW was the time for a mammogram. AWARENESS! THANKS TO RAVIOLI!
Everyone has a story. Some have seen the scars of a mastectomy. Some have witnessed the toll that chemotherapy takes on a body. Some have lived the pain. We all know it's bad.
I, for one, don't need pink to remind me.