The Colour of Confidence
I know it's Christmas time and I should be talking about Christmas. I think I'll save that post for after the holidays and my thoughts are in line. Anyway, today's post is about the colour red.
"What's your favourite colour?"
"I'm not sure, but what ever it is, it's not red."
I'm the kind of person who likes variety, and I haven't been really good at pinning my favourite colour down. I have no idea what it is. I used to hate it when people asked me this question and for years I took refuge under the colour grey, but my least favourite colour is red. I'm not particularly fond of the symbolizm attached to the colour in particular (blood, boldness, sins, etc.). Above all things, to me it seems to symbolize a woman who wants to misbehave, to be cruel, to hurt and use other people (like in the Sixth Sense when that nasty woman was wearing a red suit to her daughter's funeral). Granted, that's an awful lot to infer from something as simple as a colour. I'm probably going overboard.
But anyway, yesterday I was purging my closet of all my old unused clothes and I noticed that my closet is predominately red. I remember lots of times looking at my closet and not seeing a speck of red - what happened? How did I get overrun with my LEAST favourite colour? I took a little inventory of the red items remaining in my closet to take particular note of where they had all come from. At least half of them were hand-me-downs or gifts, but the other half were things I ACTUALLY purchased myself.
And I know why.
Unfortunately, red is a colour that very much suits my colouring - not as well as orange - but in the absense of orange I had resorted to buying red. Let's face it, I'm in the minority when I say that I actually look good in orange, so red is much easier to come by. It's a pity, a real pity, when I hate the colour so much. And even more of a pity when I look smokin in it. And the bitter resentment creeps up when I see a woman walk by wearing a spring green sweater and looking as refreshing as a meadow in a Downy commercial. Then I bite my lip and realize that I probably look as inviting as hell herself with that sour expression on my face regardless of what top I'm wearing. The thing that really bites is that someone somewhere has probably looked at me and been envious of me for my dark angel good looks (I can just keep telling myself that ~_^), when I just want to look like a good sweet innocent girl, but can never seem to pull it off.
It's probably just my fixation on what the colour red means to me. I mean, it's just a colour. It's just a refraction of light meant to give our world beauty and variety, but there is always the chance, just the chance, that I'm not half as good a girl as I like to think I am. But I doubt the removal of everything I own that happens to be red is going to cure that.
"What's your favourite colour?"
"I'm not sure, but what ever it is, it's not red."
I'm the kind of person who likes variety, and I haven't been really good at pinning my favourite colour down. I have no idea what it is. I used to hate it when people asked me this question and for years I took refuge under the colour grey, but my least favourite colour is red. I'm not particularly fond of the symbolizm attached to the colour in particular (blood, boldness, sins, etc.). Above all things, to me it seems to symbolize a woman who wants to misbehave, to be cruel, to hurt and use other people (like in the Sixth Sense when that nasty woman was wearing a red suit to her daughter's funeral). Granted, that's an awful lot to infer from something as simple as a colour. I'm probably going overboard.
But anyway, yesterday I was purging my closet of all my old unused clothes and I noticed that my closet is predominately red. I remember lots of times looking at my closet and not seeing a speck of red - what happened? How did I get overrun with my LEAST favourite colour? I took a little inventory of the red items remaining in my closet to take particular note of where they had all come from. At least half of them were hand-me-downs or gifts, but the other half were things I ACTUALLY purchased myself.
And I know why.
Unfortunately, red is a colour that very much suits my colouring - not as well as orange - but in the absense of orange I had resorted to buying red. Let's face it, I'm in the minority when I say that I actually look good in orange, so red is much easier to come by. It's a pity, a real pity, when I hate the colour so much. And even more of a pity when I look smokin in it. And the bitter resentment creeps up when I see a woman walk by wearing a spring green sweater and looking as refreshing as a meadow in a Downy commercial. Then I bite my lip and realize that I probably look as inviting as hell herself with that sour expression on my face regardless of what top I'm wearing. The thing that really bites is that someone somewhere has probably looked at me and been envious of me for my dark angel good looks (I can just keep telling myself that ~_^), when I just want to look like a good sweet innocent girl, but can never seem to pull it off.
It's probably just my fixation on what the colour red means to me. I mean, it's just a colour. It's just a refraction of light meant to give our world beauty and variety, but there is always the chance, just the chance, that I'm not half as good a girl as I like to think I am. But I doubt the removal of everything I own that happens to be red is going to cure that.
posted by Sapphirefly at
10:44 a.m.
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