Feb. 1st, 2011

lemon_says: (lemonade)
I was reading a Better Homes & Gardens at my mom's yesterday, and there were extensive musings on paint. One designer in particular was a big fan of a "beautiful beige," which is still beige, and therefore not really a color.

What I found annoying was the number of comments like, "Don't be scared of color!" Or "My husband is just too afraid of color," and "My painter didn't think I had the courage to go with the yellow."

Courage is being the only person standing in front of a tank in Tiananman Square. Courage is running into a burning building when everyone else is running out, because you know someone inside needs your help. Courage is overthrowing the only government you've ever known in an effort to improve life in your country. It's not courageous to go with the terracotta instead of the beige.

I once knew a couple who had five swatches of different beige on their kitchen wall for months. It took them months to decide on which beige to paint the kitchen. How depressing.

How did we get to this point where it takes courage to paint a room? I long for the Victorians with the whacked-out, awesome color schemes. The most magical thing about paint is that if you paint the room bright pink and hate it, you can paint over it. When my sister and I were growing up, I swear we repainted our bedrooms no fewer than six times each. My mother would roll her eyes, vow not to help, and remind us to put down a dropcloth. She tolerated rooms that were brilliant blue, lime green, white with bright peach trim, pink, you name it. After we both moved out, she painted what had been our bathroom with a purple that would be right at home in a New Orleans bordello.

Our bathroom has been green for years. It's starting to bother me. It'll be blue by spring.


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