un.colour

I love beige. But, not just beige: my reverence extends to tan, ecru, sand, buff, and khaki. To be honest, I feel unequivocal love for a whole spectrum of non-colours. Firstly, I would be amiss not to mention classic sports grey; an incantation of grey that is neither dark enough to be somber, nor light enough to be fussy, and that has an equally important place in my heart, and in my closet. Beige and sports grey, to me, are like blue jeans. I own so much of it that my laundry piles are divided into grey and beige, as apposed to the usual lights and darks. The fact that the two together prove to be a combination rivaling tomato and basil, only adds to their individual appeal. And whilst on the topic of grey, one cannot forget to mention the lovely wispy sensibility of a light dove grey: a grey that seems to me as light as a spider’s web, even when woven into a thick cable knit sweater. This grey is the most perfect grey: an allusion to silver, but without the narcissistic plea for recognition. Then there is cream; a (non)colour so richly saturated that it is almost regal. Cream has a palpable sophistication that somehow manages to be so spitefully self-effacing that one must yield to the superiority of any person that dares to wear it head-to-toe. Try it once. Your wedding day would suffice.

On the darker side of the spectrum black needs no introduction, but perhaps navy blue does. Navy blue, along with a few other colours that read as neutrals, are the tint equivalents of the newly rich. Not born into status and power like a true neutral, they nonetheless have earned their sophistication by proving that they are just as able to fit into the upper crust, albeit only through association with the original royal bloodlines. Like any advantageous marriage, a subdued colour can ‘marry up’ by pairing with one of the original neutrals: as in the case of navy blue with cognac or cream. Other notable bourgeoisie colours are dusty rose: pink without the juvenility and desperation, mauve: the older sophisticated aunt of purple, and olive green: the only green, in my opinion, with aspirations beyond kindergarten finger painting.

Then there is white. Oh the odes I could write to white! White is the omega of all the hues: with abilities bordering on supernatural. No other colour has its uncanny ability to accentuate shape and design, while simultaneously making its own statement. White speaks to the flawless grace of the person who chooses it. A person’s commitment to wearing this pure hue is, by extension, a commitment to self-possession in all areas of life. No saucy foods, no coffee to go, no red wine, no dirt on one's vehicle or in one’s home. The reason this acetism intrigues me is because we live in a time of overbearing stimulation. Even the topic of overstimulation has been discussed at-nauseam, thus bombarding us with warnings of how bombarded we are. Discipline in an age of laxity simply fascinates me. Restraint, whether it be in fashion, décor, or lifestyle is more than a palate cleanser- it is the antithesis to reality TV, junk food, and the attention grabbing antics of the rapacious media.

Clothes have become generic, and bright colours serve to distract us from that fact. Pigment used to be rare and costly, and therefore would be used sparingly, and to poignant effect. Now we are oversaturated with unnatural hues in cheap fabrics. The most criminal of the bunch are Hi-Lighter Brights. Nothing, I repeat, NOTHING should be the colour of radiation, especially not clothing. Just like we are overfed and undernourished, so our senses are being polluted with a disastrous array of tacky colour. Not to be excluded completely, I recognize colour as a potent seasoning, but alas, it should never be the meal.

Neutrals mean the absence of distraction, allowing one to see things as they really are. Neutrals reveal flaws in design, and highlights well made elements or good fabric. One cannot hide a flaw on white, nor can one hide behind grey. While a colourful outfit gives a lap dance to the senses, a neutral beckons one to come a little closer, and to take a longer look. Neutrals are stark in their confidence; colours are desperate in their ploy for attention.