By  on August 28, 2008

One woman is walking down the street in her underwear, on the back of which someone has inscribed the message “Let me be brief. Impeachment is on the table.” Another is bicycling past her on a bright pink bike, with a giant pink hat adorned with pink feathers. A third is seated on a bench waiting for the mall shuttle with a pink bumper sticker on her chest that says, “Make out, not war.”

For a party that takes pride in its diverse swath of constituents, the Democratic National Convention has been surprisingly muted visually this week. There are scores of young people who look like they graduated from Brown, Vassar, Yale or Wesleyan, and there are lots of handsome black women in their 50s. Blondes and brunettes, whites and Hispanics, young people and old people, they are all here in droves. But there is surprisingly little quirkiness, which is at least part of the reason the women of Code Pink are so hard to miss.

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