Doing well by doing good is a great corporate model for social responsibility. Companies that hook up with a good cause burnish their own image while supporting important work, so everybody wins.

There is a tipping point, however -- a point where so many companies have jumped on the bandwagon that it loses its positive impact and becomes an annoyance.

So I'm just going to come out and say this: I have had it with all the pink.

Pink, of course, is the color that symbolizes the fight against breast cancer (October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month). It's a critically important fight, and one that certainly deserves it own color. Unfortunately, pink has been co-opted by way too many advertisers who use it as an attention-seeking gimmick, trying to position every product known to humankind as a partner in the fight.

Pink started out innocently enough, with pink ribbons as a reminder to do a self-exam and get a mammogram. Literature on pink paper offered lifesaving information. Pink water in the Point State Park fountain was a sign of solidarity. Even the Steelers have played this season wearing pink-trimmed gloves, shoes and hats in honor of the women in their lives who've battled or died from the disease.

All of those things I put under the category of educational pink, or pink that performs a public service.

Then along came the other kind -- marketing pink. Pink makeup cases, pink wrist watches, pink dog collars, pink pink pink. It's enough already.

Why so snarky, you may ask. What has pink ever done to me?

Well, reporters are targeted by every conceivable sales pitch from companies trying to break through the noise. Green is a big one, as in environmentally responsible. For example, I was just informed that Halloween is the perfect time to go green by buying eco-friendly luggage. But pink marketing has the others beat, hands down.

Readers, I am told with regularity, will want to join the fight against breast cancer by buying this pink necklace, sweater set, candy, cell phone, fragrance, computer accessory, water bottle, hand lotion, rain coat, calendar, shampoo, neck tie, gardening tool or glasses case. Surely I will want to use my tiny bit of space to inform them of this great opportunity.

I thought of saving every pink pitch I received in a year and tallying them up, but my e-mail program only holds so much before seizing up. And I certainly didn't want to print them out, not having any eco-friendly luggage in which to store them. Anyway, I'm talking about a whole lot of pink.

Thus, I am personally long past the point where a pink pitch works. It's kind of like the over-use of "non-fat." That term meant something when printed on milk cartons or cookie boxes. But when "non-fat" started showing up on bottled water, it kinda lost its original point. If companies begin slapping "non-fat" on scarves and handbags, I won't be surprised.

Before anyone jumps on me for my insensitivity, this is a good place to play my survivor's get-out-jail-free card. I suppose it's possible that all that pink makes some of us with other kinds of cancer feel a little squeezed out of the picture, but that's not my motive here. This isn't a competition. As far as I'm concerned, we're all in the same leaky ship, pulling madly on the oars and trying to get to safety.

Just to be clear, then, breast cancer is a terrible scourge. Many of us know too many women (and even one is too many) who've fought it or succumbed to it, sending waves of anxiety and grief through families, friends and communities.

This accursed disease should be gotten to the bottom of, stopped in its tracks, water boarded, ground to smithereens, shot into deep space, eradicated from the face of the earth.

The same thing can be said of all other types of cancer -- skin, cervical, ovarian, pancreatic, stomach, prostate, liver, blood, colon, lung, brain -- in short, the whole spectrum ought to be tarred, feathered and run out of town on a rail, or at least the bike trail that the rail has become.

Breast cancer gets the most attention because it's the most commonly diagnosed cancer among women in the United States after skin cancer. It's also the one around which the most effective public health campaigns have been organized, and more power to those who advocate so tirelessly for their cause.

The American Cancer Society estimates that the year 2009 will bring 192,370 new cases of invasive breast cancer and 40,170 deaths. Many of those diagnosed will have none of the risk factors associated with the disease, but will get it anyway for reasons we still don't know. Some of these deaths might be prevented with genetic testing, early detection and treatment, so getting the word out is crucial. If pink marketing helps achieve that end, isn't that a good thing?

Many would say it is. But too much of a good thing is still too much. I've heard other women grumbling about all the pink too, in lowered voices, so as not to offend anyone.

Speaking for myself, then, if somebody wants to sell me food, books or clothes, I prefer they do it the old-fashioned way, with flavor, good stories, fit and quality. If they're giving cents on the dollar to research, that's wonderful. I salute them. There are people who will buy on that basis, which is fine. But companies should know that some of us have had about as much pink marketing as we can stand.

Looking for more from the Post-Gazette? Join PG+, our members-only web site. You'll get exclusive sports content, opinion, financial information, discounts from retailers and restaurants, and more. Our introduction to PG+ gives you all the details.