I don’t think I will ever be able to rid myself of all of my black items in my closet. When you stand in front of my closet, you’ll see that about sixty percent of the rack consists of black clothing. The other forty percent is either neutrals or whites. But there’s something about the sleek silhouette of black that draws me to it. Its subtlety, its elegance, its transforming quality of going from simple to classy.
One day I will try to get out of my comfort zone though. And I’ll try something extravagantly crazy. Like grey. I could do dark grey. Light grey is just silly – then you might as well just wear white.
Someday I will have to explain my daughters that I’m not a crazy person. That black really is as beautiful as yellow. It isn’t though – yellow is too wild to even be considered. If colors could have a personality, I imagine Yellow being the overly enthusiastic and happy type. Green would be the environmentalist – always trying to campaign for a greener world. Blue would be the adventurous type. The one always going on about the outdoors and stuff. It drives Yellow and Green crazy.
Black is the silent type. The I-know-it-all-I’ve-seen-it-all type who would rather draw back and read a book. Of all colors, Black can only tolerate White and Red. White because White never says anything, which is excellent. And Red because Red is an island entirely of itself. Black can admire Red from a distance and actually appreciate Red’s presence.
So red and black. That’s as far as I’ll go for now.