I wasn't very girlie growing up in a largely rural area outside of Philadelphia. I had lots to do- trees to climb, streams to wade, brothers to chase, and across the street was a farm where I'd visit.
There's a great photo of me when I'm about 4 wearing a tu-tu and a football helmet. It pretty much sums me up. Most of my life I went about detesting the color pink. Pink was girly and soft and weak and I didn't want to be any of those. I designed and built scenery for theatre- we wore black and used table saws! At some point in college, I think when I was working in summerstock theatre, I started using pink spraypaint and hello kitty stickers (Hello Kitty, I will admit, has been an obsession since 3rd grade)to identify my tools because no self-respecting burly carpenter would steal a pink hammer or kitty-fied tape measure. And somewhere in grad school, it just stuck. I became that girl. And I'm ok with that! Although I no longer design scenery for a living, I'm still pleased to know that I was able to rip 4x8 sheets of luan by myself on a tablesaw (don't do that...i don't recommend it) and have finally owned up to my 'pinkness'.
I bring this up because someone complimented me on the colors of my wall. Colors which I use often, and as fate would have it, didn't fit someone else's taste at home depot and were therefore afforable "OOPS" paint. And it suited me fine.