Pink’s aggressive femininity — which, it should be pointed out, was only popularized in the latter half of the 20th century — is used to remind us that girls are girls and boys are boys. To be in pink is to be demure, obedient, and conventional. But this pink that has recently emerged is womanly, in a different way. In an era of feminism that includes Beyoncé in a bodysuit and Scout Willis topless at a grocery store, women are making the point that they are unself-conscious about their beauty, that their feminism isn’t buttoned up or politically correct. This pink is unapologetic, boldly present, and intelligent — think of Petra Collin’s nymph-like aggression about the menstrual cycle, of T-shirts demanding Instagram to " #FreeTheNipple ," of artwork made of molds of women’s vaginas.Of course, it’s worth mentioning there’s a luxury appeal to the trend — the soft blush nudes you see are also playing into the recent fad in fine jewelry in which Cartier watches and Piaget pendants now come in rose gold, rimmed with little diamonds. Nor is this color novel in its provocation (the social justice NGO Code Pink has been in existence for 12 years; Tracey Emin’s neon script has been around for a while, too). And yet, this expression in high fashion is, nonetheless, provocative. Pink, in all its iterations, is no longer a ladylike cliché — it’s frank and sensuous. It’s less of a throwback, and more of a subtle subversion of our idea of femininity, evoking the color of lips, nipples, and labia. This slouchy, androgynous version of pink doesn’t care what you think. In that way, it points to a much more subtle idea of how we tend to our notions of gender and desire. These are pinks you purposely don’t dress up; you dress them down and rip them up. Pink has finally grown up.