In the 80’s, my Mum had a dress that was tiny and ruffled and pink and to this day it conjures images of a flamingo’s downy feathers, a dancer’s tulle skirt and a peony spayed wide open in the midday sun. It was made from moiré silk and had a wavy texture reminiscent of the sea. A pink ocean of a dress. I wrote last week about mustard and where my love for it began. My love of pink is next level. From Renoir flesh to high wattage neon, there isn’t a pink I do not adore. It’s hard to articulate my love of pink because it’s so inextricably linked with my Mum and that dress. These photos I took come somewhere close.