I’ve been feeling overwhelmingly guilty. I straight up hated on pink. As soon as I did, I started having a change of heart. Pink is not horrid. It is not foul. It’s actually quite lovely when saturated to the perfect shade of bubblegum hotness.
It’s sassy on drapes, sofas and pillows.
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It’s rawr rawr on headboards and bolsters.
On dust ruffles.
And on benches and lamps.
Am I hittin’ the interwebs for my very own pinkacolada? Absolutely not. Do I feel like my guilty soul is healed and that I’ve made peace with you dear pinkafanatics? Indeed I do.
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