I want a pink iPhone. I have yelled about it with my friends and coworkers on Twitter and yearned in private Slacks to find anything that suits the bill. Imagine my excitement when Apple announced the pink iPhone at its September iPhone event. I didn't see the color until then. That exhilaration lasted only a split second. I felt empty, bored and bone-tired.
It was pink on my screen, but I couldn't see the difference. My colleagues couldn't either. Although the pink iPhone may look like a pastel salmon or muted coral, it is not Barbie-convertible. Lauren Goode, my colleague, described the color to me after she had seen it in person. It's about the meaning of a pink iPhone that isn't there.
I'm tired of tech that caters only to heterosexual, cisgender males, wealthy white masses, and isn't gender neutral. I'm tired of AirSpace, minimalism and bland beige tones. Bisexual, biracial woman. My problems are not the most severe in the world. And the problems that I have are more urgent than the latest smartphone design trends. This is something I find very personal. Is there bold tech that allows me unapologetically to be myself?
True Colors
iPhone 13 Photograph by Apple
The 1990s were surrounded with colorful AOL CDs. The whistles and chitters from a modem connection were my soundtrack as I ventured into the unknown frontier. I was an extrovert who lived in the Midwest and dreamed of magical neon cities. My first space was in a screen.
Mattel introduced the Talk With Me! Getty Images - Barbie doll for Christmas 1997
My first internet adventures were when I shared my personally identifiable information with strangers. I was obsessed with The Palace, lost in Dream Dollhouse and microdosing serotonin at Neopets Money Tree. I was a painter of Adobe Flash fingernails. I bounced between MyScene, GamesforGirls. Jeeves asked me what a crush was. I downloaded viruses to make my cursor sparkle. The future looked bright.
Even more important, hardware was cool when I was a teenager. My room was cluttered with bright, specific gadgets. This is when I discovered my passion for all things gear.
The whole arrayan MP3 player was mys, and it connected to a small, bejewelled speaker. Babysitting income was enough to buy the bubblegum Motorola Razr and the delicious raspberry LG Rhythm. Apple, its brightly-colored iPods (and iMacs) were the real reason. At 17 I bought an iPod Touch for Christmas. I loved the silver color. I made app icons pink and glittery by customizing them. I took out my cheap fuschia earbuds, and put on a thick, sparkly case. I felt cool, and even though I was a teenager, I felt understood.
