In the weeks leading up to Easter, I refuse to set foot in a Target or drugstore, dreading the towering rows of pink and purple baskets, pink and purple rabbits and pink and purple candy. I dig Easter for its spiritual and springtime associations, but what idiot thought of commercializing the holiday around the two colors men dislike the most?

Pink I can take in small doses. Aside from the time when I was a kid and literally puked in the car after trying Baskin-Robbins’ pink bubble-gum ice cream, pink generally gives me good vibes. Nothing is hotter than a slightly tanned, hunky guy who can confidently sport a pale pink shirt. As for me, I’m usually not so tan – so I stick with wearing brown, which better matches my hair.

Purple, I don’t get. If purple is a mix of masculine blue and hot red, why do most guys avoid it like the plague? I don’t remember the last time I saw anyone buy a purple sofa, purple car, purple jeans or purple gym shorts – and praise Jesus for that. Reddish or bluish purples aren’t always bad, and even shirts or ties with purple pinstripes can be hip. But too much “pure” purple makes me want to run screaming. That was my reaction a few years ago, when my old roommate moved and set up his toy collection and bright purple beanbag chair in the middle of the living room. All I could see were giant gumballs and Barney the Dinosaur, and I freaked. He agreed to hide the chair in the corner, as best as one can hide a gigantic purple object.

Maybe purple isn’t popular because it’s the relative freak of nature. There are no large purple land animals that I’m aware of, probably because they’d be the laughingstock of other animals. Out of curiosity, I looked up “purple animals” on Wikipedia. Sure enough, the only animal mentioned is a small Indian purple frog that spends most of its life underground… I rest my case.

It’s also interesting to know that the earliest-known purple worn by people was actually not very purple after all – it was a reddish eggplant color that came from the dye of a rare squid. Because only nobles and royals could afford clothes from this dye, people started calling it “imperial purple.” Before you knew it, this dark, reddish purple became the in-color for kings, queens, and would-be-queens like the bisexual Alexander the Great. It was also popular with Roman emperors. But purple apparently started its fashion free-fall in the Middle Ages, when wealthy people began buying clothes with rare blue dyes and a more lavender-like purple called “royal purple.”

It’s only in the past century that purple “fashion” trickled down to the unwashed masses, who were no doubt getting sick of wearing basic blacks and earth tones. So people went crazy with purple fads. In the ’60s we had psychedelic purple paint and purple lava lamps. In the ’70s, men wore purple polyester disco shirts and track pants, and women actually bought purple jeans (shudder). And no thanks to Don Johnson, in the mid ’80s purple shirts became really trendy, especially when mixed with other brights or pastels. By that time I was a closeted gay teenager, and the “Miami Vice” fad threw my own pink and purple phobia for a big (fruit) loop. In my high school photos I resemble a giant walking sherbet cone, with fallen sprinkles in the form of my red and yellow Converse high tops and colored socks.

Thankfully these days, most of us have left all things purple to kids, who are blissfully ignorant of the color’s gauche history and adult baggage. I still remember how many hours I spent as a kid, blowing big purple bubbles with grape bubblegum, while playing with my sister’s purple Barbie Corvette, and wanting a purple car of my own someday.

Besides being kid colors, purple and pink have also become associated with gay men, while Liberace and gay purple Teletubbies sure haven’t helped. I have to wonder if purple’s supposed “gayness” is another reason why so many guys stay away from it.

Seven years ago, I very ironically ended up buying a car – an early hybrid Prius – with the slightest purple hue to it. At the time it only came in six colors, and I thought that was the coolest. I didn’t really notice the purple hue until I drove it home and parked it under the fluorescent garage lights. Now, I can’t wait to trade it in for a mid-life-crisis sports car in a butch blue or dark red. But my car is paid off, so I’m going to wait a year or two. Besides, it’s not really purple – that’s what I keep telling myself.