One year in high school, when I was vehemently anti-Valentine’s Day and pro-female solidarity, I convinced some of my lady friends to wear lime green (or the closest thing they had) on February 14.
Why? I didn’t want to wear black, because that was a little too anti-V-Day and too obvious. I reasoned that by swinging too far into the darkness we’d in fact be admitting that it had some power over us. It’s like by not allowing yourself to say Voldemort’s name, you actually give him more respect and power than you meant to. By wearing black on Valentine’s, you’re announcing to the world that it makes you sad and angsty and you do actually care.
So I asked myself, “Self: what is the opposite of pink?” and myself answered “Well, since pink is a light red, and green is the opposite of red on the color wheel, it must be a light green. Let’s call it lime green. Plus, bonus points for obnoxiousness.”
#TBTD (throwback tie-dye)
And so some awesome ladies did wear lime green (or as close as possible) with me, and everyone in the ENTIRE SCHOOL beheld our glorious brightness and knew. They knew we were saying, “Down with the commercialization of the feast of St. Valentine!”
No wait.
The message was, “Don’t tell us when to be romantic! Isn’t being romantic on the day everyone says you must be romantic inherently false?”
Probably not.
Maybe, “We’re different! We don’t follow the crowd! LOOK HOW INDIVIDUAL WE ARE as a group in matching outfits.”
Nope.
“We reject society’s heteronormative pressure to couple! We prefer groups of three to eight!”
Erm.
Well.
There was a message, probably, but no one in the school noticed.
Which was ok, because I noticed. I noticed how awesome my lady friends were, and how much fun it was to go against the grain, and that however you celebrate or reject or are apathetic about Valentine’s Day, I hope you have someone awesome to do it with.
Yeah. Entendre intended.
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