contributed by Angela Sanders [aspiring architect / fashionista / cultural commentator]
EDITOR’S NOTE: Although we’re all about color here at PLiNTH & CHiNTZ, we’re also transparent. We must reveal that Angela Sanders is a P&C contract employee, and this piece came about because of a single email she sent, illuminating us about her weekend excursion to a museum exhibition related to the splendors of China’s Forbidden City. What stood out to us were her musings on – and her obvious subsequent obsession with – anything and everything Imperial Yellow. We were infatuated with her infatuation, so we asked her to expand her spectrum and explore her thoughts, colorful as they may be. Though the subject doesn’t technically fall under OLD SCHOOL’s description of design history, humans (and animals) have had had affinities for and aversions to certain colors throughout history, so we felt ourselves justified. So there.
Imperial Yellow
Went to the Forbidden City exhibit today. I think I would have been a consort of former Prince Bao (can’t spell Quiaong…). Imperial Yellow is my NEW fav hue. That will be my request for everything. “Umm, yea do you have this in Imperial Yellow” Oh, well then no. I can’t take it unless it’s Imperial. Sighhhh!”
The thinker was that he was described as ‘tall’. His bed didn’t look like it was fit for a ‘tall’ person. So makes me wonder what was short”
I did learn one lesson of importance… The cafe’s kitchen closes at 3p. They really don’t care if you are hungry. They will close anyway. I should have been wearing my ‘Imperial’ colors. Maybe then this Imperial Girl would have been taken seriously.
Could it be that my mission – should I choose to accept it – be to make the world understand and appreciate what is truly imperial about yellow” Shading is key. One can’t walk around in pastel yellow. Convincing the world, but not distinguishing the shade, would create confusion.
Am I to assume that other people get that same eye twitch from the ‘normal’ yellow that I get” Which means they will detect the contrast of an ‘imperial’ with a ‘primary’” (Gasp!) The responsibility is quite heavy.
The next step could be that I type up a small guide for the group in need of direction. My mother might be available to teach courses. She’s always loved yellow, therefore making this attraction to ‘imperial’ quite natural. My entire princess tendencies have been validated. Who knew the museum could teach so much”
Red Feelings
As I recall all of the exhibit’s imperial yellows, I don’t remember seeing tons of Reds. Isn’t red the ‘power’ color” I mean people are painting rooms of their homes in this forceful hue – even the White House. The president takes the whole red tie thing a bit too seriously, though.
Meanwhile, I am not a fan of red. I am not against it in a PETA way. I just have nightmares of my first job out of college. All of the cubes were red. Even the carpet was red. Actually the carpet was a red print (say it with me ‘YUCK!’). It was in this freakish bubble print. All the cages, (ahem!) cubicles were red and even the walls of the foyer were red. Enough already!
Red – the color of blood and emergency exit signs (does anyone see a theme” Anyone”). Maybe the color was a tactic used to make the natives restless or fearful to escape (hence, the STOP sign…what color is it” Yeah, you know which one.).
The inside of the cage was taupe or some other boring neutral tone. The outside (the scary part) was RED. I don’t even know its official title: Work-or-Die Red, Bottomless-pit-of-Boredom Red, Comatose Red. I do know that I hated the job, the color, the cage, the elevator, the foyer… well, you get the point.
That color will never sit right with me again. I might have felt the same if it was green, but I truly doubt it. I think red is supposed to evoke an energetic response. Personally, I believe it is the cause of many mental disorders, which is why we never see hospitals, prisons or psychiatric wards embracing red. Maybe they know something we don’t.
Saks says Orange
So it seems that orange is making a strong push to be elected THE color of the season. Which season” Well, if we strictly refer to Texas then it would be Sprummer. Face it – we don’t really have true Springs AND Summers. They are usually combined. Two extremes are offered. Extremely mild with lots of rainfall OR… OR… or the norm: extreme heat with almost no precip. I’ve experienced more of the latter than the former which is why I’m always confused when there is some sort of distinction made between spring and summer.
So fashionably speaking, there is a point where they change. The question would be when. If orange is a spring color does that mean that I have until June 21st to wear it” It seems just last year that it was a summer color, or was that winter”
Orange is quite fickle. How fair is it that I blame the hue” But who if not hue” (hehehe. You know that’s funny.) Wait a sec, I bought an orange toggle coat not one year ago this month and wore it all over Italy (for like a day because the winter disappointedly went mild). So does that make orange an all season color” Orange you confused too” Should we call Anna Wintour” I’m tempted.
I was not always a fan of orange, but then I made a futile attempt to go against the fashion deities and chose another hue opposite of the trend only to be followed up by that hue as the IT of a season. Very frustrating.
I don’t know which was more ridiculous: the fact that I thought I could pick a color that wouldn’t be trendy and stand alone in my gloriousness or the fact that I am buying my clothes in stores where the color is obviously available to everyone. I choose not to dissect the reasoning. It’s just not important right now.
What is important is that SAKS says orange is hot right now. So is that why stores sold winter coats in orange” Does orange give the illusion of intense warmth, therefore making the coat superior to others in simple black” On the flip side, would orange be too warm in the sprummer to be worn without threat of heat exhaustion” I am quite befuddled. Orange you”
Purple Blues
There are possibilities that I favor blue over purple. Not favor so much as feel a deep disdain for the latter hue. I am not oblivious. I know the origin of both babies and purple. Purple is an offspring (bastard) of the brief tryst between red and blue.
Wondering why ‘imperial’ is superior to ‘royalty’ in my book” (Meanwhile history, both Biblical and traditional, favored purple for the royals and such. What did they know”)
Childhood tragedy guides my choices. It all started when I experienced purple out of its element. Lips. Purple. Shiny. Blind! I think I’ve gone BLIND!!! Excuse the break in communication, still haunted by the flashbacks. I was only eight years old (granted, I assign this age to every life altering event of my childhood). One could only assume this woman thought purple would accentuate the ‘queen’ within. She was so wrong. Very. She made my face do the ‘crinkle.’ (You know the one where your mother announces liver for dinner”)
So there lies the foundation of my purple blues.
Fast forward to the nearly present (which would be last summer), where purple campaigned intensely to be apart of THE colors clique. I tried to fight my demons so I could purchase a purse in p-p-purple. I carried that purse around the entire store only to release it (like a thousand doves…Ahem! Sorry, always wanted to say that.). I could not, would not buy it. I had a small bout of flashbacks. The ‘crinkle’ was forming. Creating wrinkles in the visage. The pressure was too much. Escape was the only option.
If there weren’t five more intense fears on my top 5 fears list, this hue would definitely be on it in bold print. I just might seek color therapy. Maybe find someone who specializes in purple trauma.
Purple is inhibiting my friendships. There was a brief moment while chatting with a friend that expressed delight over painting her bedroom purple where I considered ending the friendship. Could I really be friends with a person who would paint their room in the ‘scary’ color”
Stop right there. I’m calling the therapist myself. I need help.
White is not Hue-man
My dad thinks white is the best color EVER. Seriously, eVER. The house is white, the car, the walls of every room. It’s so very near sanitarium status that I’m thinking he should have a sign printed and posted.
At least he should make money off all the brightness. I tried to change the tone of the walls around age 3 with my trusty crayons. For a while he allowed my artistic expressions to flourish and then for some odd reason he just switched back to Blank Canvas Guy. He informed me that I would have to wash my artwork from the walls.
Do you think Morisot had these kinds of issues with her dad” The masterpiece was indescribable. Maybe because I don’t remember every stroke, but art is relative. Too bad my relative disagreed with my direction. Hey, who needs wallpaper when you have CRAYOLA” The paintbrush of the toddler set.
Yet I haven’t decided which was worse – my being forced to wash off the artwork (Hello, child labor laws being violated… 5-year-olds should not be made to wash walls), or the renewing of his white wall vow.
It’s almost like he is from another planet. Planet Predictable, he’s from Planet Predictable. Had he not wed my human mother, I might have been afflicted with the same alien frailties.
His regimen is just not human. My father can and has eaten the same meal for lunch on Thursday for about 4 years – arroz con pollo (rice & chicken for the uni-lingual) – from the same restaurant until his office relocated, therefore separating him and his entrée. Every Friday he buys lemon pepper wings from the same location.
Anytime I expressed faint interest in particular foodstuffs he would buy it every week until I would leave it to decompose to signal my disinterest or nausea. Try eating Owens Sausage Biscuits every morning. Who knew SAM’S Club sold them in bulk” Let’s not relive the Vanilla Ice Cream Event of 1995. A half-gallon every week. Far too traumatic. It’s like he was recruited by the Gain Weight Squad. Maybe that’s why he was sent to Earth.
The Pink Conspiracy
Pink is not my color. It has never been my color because I never wanted it to be my color.
A conspiracy has been awry for a few years, and I’m tempted to approach the proper authorities with my take on the situation as nears ‘dire.’ Someone, somewhere, not really sure where, is forcing me to come in close contact with pink.
Exhibit A: I flew into Paris where my luggage was misplaced for three days. Misplaced meaning no one ever attempted to look for it and in a city where ‘customer service’ is a foreign term asking for a manager does not inspire productivity. Fortunately, an alternate outfit was in my carry-on tote. Unfortunately, I neglected to pack alternate shoes.
I was so mentally drained from all the pained trekking that I broke down and purchased a pair of pink shoes while I was in London for a day. Yes, there was a pair in another color. In the color blue that normally suits me in any shade. Not this time. I had finally narrowed my choices to the Bertie brand (equivalent and sister brand to Nine West) only to find the options were limited and this particular blue was unsavory to my visual preferences.
Everyone has a first. Of course, I’m forced to purchase the pink pair because psychologically I didn’t have the ability to walk one more step to another department store. As soon as I put on those Pepto shoes, my peds suddenly performed the good shopping walk. The pain-free version, void of moans and hallucinations. I very nearly did a pirouette down Oxford.
As I am confessing my contradictive behavior, I must admit that just last July (4 months after shoe purchase) I acquired a pair of corduroys that were also of the pink persuasion. The chemicals in the dye are causing this ridiculous behavior (Exhibit B). If I become a Mary Kay lady, I want to be shot between the eyes.
What’s next”
As a visual person, I have taken comfort in my reliable fickle behavior. Next week I might very well make burnt sienna my signature color. I’m bold. Confused. Whatever.
Truly color obsessed”
Then commune with those who understand you:
