When Pantone announced their new color of the year, I avidly read some of my favorite design websites. It was startling how much violet shade got throw around. The word Barney was used. A lot. Interior designers were all, “This is great for, um, accents.” Emily Henderson, one of my favorites, got a little tacky and said, “If you’re really into school mascots or graduation gowns, this shade of purple is going to make you very excited.”
But I have my own opinions. It’s no secret which side of the aubergine fence I’m standing on, or sitting in, given the color of my office walls.
First of all, I get that purple is not everyone’s cup of tea. Every single soul on earth has a color that makes their internal-happiness-meter shoot straight to “NOPE.” Yellow is that color for me. I love a daffodil. But if you stick me in a room full of yellow walls, or GOD FORBID make me wear a yellow dress, I’m going to need some medicated coping mechanisms.
Purple is that color for some folks.
But not this folk.
I’ve been in love with this magical color since I was old enough to yell “give me back my purple crayon” in kindergarten. It’s the color of mystery, possibilities, deep after-sunset skies, and crystals. It’s my birth stone, and the color of my favorite flower, the hyacinth. Also, hello, Prince and Purple Rain.
My teacher in the 5th grade told me my purple sweater “complimented me” and she basically could have founded the I’m-Not-A-Fan-Of-Liz-Harrell-Fan-Club, so I carried that closely with me for years. Purple was the color of Monica’s apartment, my first interior design goal.
I say Purple for President!
(Although given the state of things, I might mean that literally.)
Purple is my baby’s favorite color. Her walls are painted Wisteria, and somehow every other color of the rainbow is in there too, and every time I enter the doorway I smile because it’s just so her in there.
And if, perchance, I stumble onto a purple house, it is a full-stop event where I get out of the car and take at least five pictures. If that house happens to be a Victorian farmhouse in Vermont like the one above, I’m going to be taking upwards of 20 pictures and squealing the whole time.
So here in this house, we’re pretty stoked about Ultra Violet.