ABSTRACT
Led into a room of an eight year old girl, the floor scattered with parts of toys and with doll’s clothes, the proud inhabitant shows me her new bunkbed by demonstratively climbing her way up. When throning on her pink bedcover like a little fairy princess, she introduces me to her royal household of stuffed toys with which she so lovingly shares her bed. It strikes me that pink is the dominant colour, not only in the romantic decoration of the room, but also in the toys and the dress of the girl. How different the bedroom of a like-aged boy is. Warned by a little skeleton fixed on the door I enter a dangerous world: alien space ships skim the wall, suggesting Star Wars is already on. The bedcover, depicting a racing car, conceals his secrete bed-mate: a teddy-bear. He treats me to demonstrations of a robot in action, the firing arm of a miniature superman and the velocity of a supersonic racing car, lecturing me on how to press the buttons for the desired effects. When I leave the room, I notice there is neither a dominant colour in the decoration, nor in the toys, but it is rather a mixture of strong colours, like black, red and shades of blue.
