Plum

If you read my post on turquoise, you know colour perception can be subjective and ambiguous. I decided to make turquoise a separate Colour Theory category from both blue and green because of a particular dress I owned that turned out to be divisive in terms of what colour people perceived it to be. The exact same thing has happened with purple and burgundy, so I’ve created a board for plum.

plum-board1

One day, at work, I wore the outfit pictured above. In my mind the main colour displayed was burgundy, but I got called “purple lady” and was accused of dressing like a grape. Interesting, I thought. Then, months later, as I was mentally preparing to write this blog post, I went in to work in an outfit that to my mind was decidedly purple, and another coworker commented that she liked my maroon outfit. Clearly there is a very fine line between purple and burgundy. You could argue that there is a fine line between any two colours that sit next to each other on the spectrum. The word spectrum itself defines a continuum. But I’ve chosen to write an entire post about plum because the line between purple and burgundy seems to be particularly fine. I’m not even sure the word “plum” is the right one to use. Unlike turquoise, there doesn’t seem to be a definitive name for the colour(s) between purple and burgundy. Fuschia and magenta could fall within this range, but they have more of a pink, rather than red influence, so for the purposes of this exercise, plum will have to do.

As I was creating my plum photo collage, I struggled to decide what belonged in the purple camp, what was more maroon, and what plum really meant. What do you think of my choices? Do you think plum even deserves its own category? If plum does, doesn’t indigo? After all, indigo (midway between blue and purple) is an actual colour on the spectrum, so why not give it equal treatment? Well, the answer, for me, is that no one’s ever accused me of wearing blue when I thought I was wearing purple, and vice versa.

plum-board2

Interestingly, as I was scouring my neighbourhood for plum objects I discovered that a lot of foods fall into this colour range. Plums obviously, but also grapes, onions, beets, eggplant, and blueberries when smooshified. So perhaps plum, as a colour, is symbolically indicative of health and vitality, while also conveying depth, and brooding moodiness. It doesn’t really know what it wants to be, and refuses to be pinned down, but is also plentiful in nature. Plum: an enigma, wrapped in a smoothie.

 

Purple

Purple is the colour of royalty because it is rare in nature and was once quite expensive to create as a dye. It evokes luxury and decadence, and therefore also pomposity and conceit. During the Roman era, Emperors wore purple. There is a similar association in Japan, where the colour is linked to wealth and position. I wouldn’t say I feel particular opulent when wearing purple, but now that I think of it, it’s not really a colour that can fade into the background, the way some other colours on the cool end of the spectrum can.

purple-board1

I’ve learned it’s a rather divisive colour, and people either love it or hate it. It’s difficult for me, as someone who loves all colours, to understand anyone hating a particular hue, but I have a coworker who absolutely despises purple, to the point where it’s practically one of her defining characteristics, which is perhaps ironic since she’s the most “blingy” person I know.

purple-board2

Purple is also considered a girly colour nowadays, I guess because of lavender and violet’s proximity to pink. But this is sort of weird, since purple is equal parts red and blue, so it could just as easily be labelled a masculine colour. Whatever, modern toy marketers, your gender biases are arbitrary and detrimental. That having been said, my favourite pony is Twilight Sparkle, but that’s not because of her colour scheme.

purple-board3

When I was a child we had a lilac tree in our front yard. There was something very romantic about that tree to me, and it made me feel like I belonged in the same world as Anne of Green Gables. Unfortunately this feeling was always brief, since the tree’s bloom only lasted a few weeks, but perhaps its ephemeral nature was part of the appeal.