Purple Is The Bad Girl’s Pink (Or Is It The Sad Girl’s Pink?)

Once upon a time I fell madly in love with the color pink. I liked her vibrational positivity. I liked her girly-vibes, because we all know — that despite the fact that I’m a mega dyke — I’m the girliest-girl in girl-world.

ME captured by Owen Gould in The Fire Island Pines.

I really loved that pink didn’t downplay her wild femininity. I liked that she still splashed herself all of over clothes, even when fashion legend, Karl Lagerfeld famously stated: “Think pink but don’t wear it.”

Photo Credit: Pinterest
Photo Credit: Pinterest
Photo Credit: Pinterest

I’m pink.

That’s what I’d think to myself. Pink was my ~chosen~ color.

Photo Credit: Pinterest
Photo Credit: Pinterest
Photo Credit: Pinterest

Pink is is the girl I thought I was for a long a while. But at some point it seemed, I fell out of ~alignment~ with pink. Maybe it was because my sordid past didn’t seem to fit her historically virtuous narrative. Maybe too many *other bitches* had already claimed her as their own. Maybe she triggered some deep-rooted insecurities tucked away inside of me. Maybe I overdid her. Maybe I’m just your typical disgusting fuckboy. I took poor pink baby for granted. Chewed her up and only to spit her pretty pink energy out on to the sidewalk.

I don’t know.

But all I do know is that I was favorite color lost for awhile there. Which felt like an identity crisis. Which as someone who’s already sunk in the confusing seas of coming out of the goddamn, closet — identity crises are of no interest to me.

And then, like fucking kismet, I stumbled upon lavender. I was lost and lavender found me. Purr.

Photocredit: Pinterest
Photocredit: Pinterest
Photo credit: Pinterest
Photo Credit: Pinterest
Photo Credit: Pinterest

I felt so…seen.

And then I met lavender’s bitchy older-sister violet. Violet and I were instantly connected.

Photo Credit: Pinterest
Photo Credit: Pinterest
Photo Credit: Pinterest
Photo Credit: Pinterest
Photo Credit: Pinterest

Then I met petulant lilac. I love a petulant child, don’t you?

Photo Credit: Pinterest
Photo Credit: Pinterest
Photo Credit: Pinterest
Photo Credit: Pinterest

Purple is the bad girl’s pink. I thought to myself.

Or is purple the sad girl’s pink?

Or is she the bad/sad girl’s pink?

Or is she just a color like no other; a moody beauty that makes my brain tingle and eyes flicker in a way that pretty pretty pink could only ~dream~ of?

Photo Credit: Pinterest

Is purple a magnet for the sad girl/bad girl spirit because she’s gloomy and gleamy and glamorous at all at once?

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I mean pink is cool and all and can light up a room (especially in the form of faux-fur) —

Photo Credit: Pinterest
Photo Credit: Pinterest

— but I think she lacks the soulfulness and precarious past of purple.

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Pink poses; purple pouts. Pink waited till she fell in love to lose her virginity. Purple had a passionate affair with her professor. While pink played with dolls, purple smoked cigarettes with bad boys behind malls.

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Pink is plastic,

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purple is pleather.

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Pink got good grades;

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purple misbehaved.

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Pink is a pale couch you see on pinterest,

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purple is a woman you could never own because she’s the most a peace when totally mother fucking alone.

Photo Credit: Pinterest

(But you will never forget Purple because that one night when she came to your apartment for that party her violet wine spilled all over your pinterest pink couch but secretly you don’t really mind because a bitch like her comes along only once in a lifetime). 

My debut book GIRL, STOP PASSING OUT IN YOUR MAKEUP: THE BAD GIRL’S GUIDE TO GETTING YOUR SH*T TOGETHER is available NOW on AmazonBarnes & NobleIndieBound, and BAM! If you send me a screenshot of your order, I’ll send you swag!


Praises for GIRL, STOP PASSING OUT IN YOUR MAKEUP

“Zara has the rare talent of marching into the deepest, darkest moments of life—the mascara-teared and alcohol-soaked—scooping them up, and thrusting them into the light with amazing clarity, forgiveness, and compassion. As her editor at Elite Daily, I had the honor of watching Zara blossom into the emotionally raw and poetic writer she is now. Her gripping first-person narratives help every woman (including me) come to terms with her own demons or insecurities in a refreshingly comfortable way. There’s a reason she’s built up an army of ‘babes’ who are empowered by the words of their dear big sister, Z: Her candid honesty and no bullshit advice are simply addicting.” 

– Faye Brennan, Sex & Relationships Director, Cosmopolitan

“Reading Zara is like reading your own thoughts—only sexier and much more brilliantly written.”

– Kaitlyn Cawley, former Editor-At-Large, Bustle Media Group and former Editor-in-Chief, Elite Daily

“Reading Zara’s writing will make you feel like you’re at your cool-as-hell big sister’s sleepover party. You will be transfixed by her unflinching honesty and words of wisdom, and she’ll successfully convince you to not only ditch the shame you feel about the raw and messy parts of yourself, but to dare to see them as beautiful.”

– Alexia LaFata, Editor, New York Magazine

“If Cat Marnell and F. Scott Fitzgerald had a literary baby it would be Zara Barrie. She’s got Marnell’s casual, dark, downright hilarious tone of an irreverent party girl. But then she also has Fitzgerald’s talent for making words literally feel like they sparkle on the page. You instantly feel more glamorous after reading a page of Zara’s writing, even when the page is talking about getting into a screaming match with her girlfriend outside of a bar on a Sarasota street corner while high on benzos. I’ve always been a fan of Zara’s writing, but Girl, Stop Passing Out in Your Makeup takes it to the next level. With shimmery words that make her dark stories sparkle, she seamlessly manages to inspire even the most coked-out girl at the party to get her shit together.”

– Candice Jalili, Senior Sex & Dating Writer, Elite Daily

“Self-help meets memoir. Party girl meets wise sage. Beauty meets reality. Zara Barrie is the cool older sister you wish you had. The one that lets you borrow her designer dresses and ripped up fishnets, buys you champagne (she loves you too much to let you drink beer), and colors your lips with bright pink lipstick. She’ll take you to the coolest parties, and will stick by your side and she guides you through the glitter, pain, danger, laughter, and what it means to be a f*cked up girl in this f*cked up world (both of which are beautiful despite the darkness). Girl, Stop Passing Out in Your Makeup is for the girls that are too much of a beautiful contradiction to be contained. Zara is a gifted writer—one second she’ll have you laughing over rich girls agonizing over which Birkin bag to buy, the next second she’ll shatter your heart in one sentence about losing one’s innocence. Zara is the nuanced girl she writes for—light, irreverent, snarky, bitchy, funny; and aching, perceptive, deep, flawed, wise, poised, honest—all at once. Perhaps the only thing that can match Zara’s unparalleled wit and big sister advice is her candid humor and undeniable talent for the written word. Zara is one of the most prolific and entertaining honest voices on the internet—and her talent is only multiplied in book form. Girl, Stop Passing Out in Your Makeup is for the bad girls, honey.”  

– Danya Troisi, Executive Editor, GO Magazine

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