I was at Mayfest at my university, stealing a guilty hour from finals study time to dither and shop the booths. Pottery, tie-dye t-shirts, save the animals and become a libertarian, come to the library, and have your fortune told. I opted for the last one in my ditherment. A young woman asked me what appealed, palm or cards, choosing stones in a bag. Hadn't heard about the stones, and so I closed my eyes, and picked out a half dozen. She read them for me, but mostly was amazed that every one was grey. She dumped out the whole of the bag, full of colorful stones. I was in the last throes of my "marriage" grinding out A's as my life depended on it, and felt very defensive about my choices. What was wrong with grey? The stones all felt pretty interesting. Still, I took it to my heart. I was wearing an oversize grey rayon jumper, large pockets, very comfortable, my daily uniform, rather shabby. I noticed how little color was in my closet. Camouflage.
I had won a soft grey stuffed rabbit at a church Easter party, guessing the number of jellybeans in a huge jar. Ecstatic, I'd never won anything, and for such a lovely critter. Older kids stole it from me while I waited for my mother to pick me up. The church committee found out and later gave me a bright yellow bunny to replace it. I'd loved the real looking one, and the soft grey fur. They thought they had gotten me a better one. I cried later.
In high school, I bought a skirt, pinwale corduroy, dark charcoal grey, long, slim. I felt so stylish in it. Unprecedented. My parents always complained when I wore it, too dark and severe they thought, not allowed when visiting relatives or for church, and I had uniforms for school. So, a few school dances, until my hips took a growth spurt, and it no longer fit. I have a shortish knit soft one now, discovered on sale, and very subtle, makes me feel daring and sensual.
I have had grey coats, and hats, all soft. Grey to me is comforting, or very sophisticated, elegant. Cool, neutral and natural. Grey is what I wear for myself, to feel solid and certain. I like to think angels wear grey, dark heather charcoal grey, gently flowing, walking in our midst.
7 comments:
Very nice. Thank you.
Beautiful post. I've always been fonder of subtle grays than bold, bright colors, myself.
(o)
(Picture that one as a gray one :-> (Or grey. I prefer the British spelling too.))
1885 Field's Chromatography iii. 38 note, The distinction between grey and gray should be carefully observed. Grey is composed only of black and white; the term gray is applied to any broken colour of a cool hue, and therefore belongs to the class of chromatic colours.
Or so I found in the OED. I have also heard it was a gendered word, gray being I think the feminine. But then, I like colour and behaviour, so probably a Canadianism at heart. Sheer eccentricity accounts for a lot.
Wow! I'd never heard of a semantic difference between the two spellings, but that actually makes immediate intuitive sense to me. "Gray" is just somewhere between black and white, but "grey" is a color. That's really exciting.
(Okay, so I'm easily excited.)
Huh. I have always written "grey" because it just - felt right. Felt like the color, while gray doesn't. Fascinating. I wear a lot of grey too, always have.
Oh yes, angels in grey coats. Now that I've read your wonderful post, I will see them everywhere.
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