When I was growing up, a friend’s house had slightly pink, soft lighting in the master bathroom.
Her mother said that she wanted the forgiving light so that she didn't have to feel bad every time she looked at herself in the mirror.
Another friend said, "I would want the lights to be bright so that I could fix things and look better."
Ah. To be sixteen again. Some things you can't fix, child. But this points to a divide:
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