Blue is calming, like an ocean breeze. Grey is moody, like a lingering mist. Black is somber, like an emo kid from the 90s. Together they are crisp, cool, and collected, and just like that emo kid, they hope to get noticed while simultaneously conveying a don’t-give-a-shit attitude.
Crisp, cool, and collected. These are terms that can be used for both grey and green. While green evokes all that is organic, such as forests and glens, and grey is rather industrial, with images of smoke and steel coming to mind, both are calm colours. Unflappable, resolved, wise, and serene. Paired together they are perfect for a professional look. Think business meeting served with a luncheon.
Grey is cool, crisp, and content and fully unconcerned. It is pleased to listen to both sides of an argument without ever taking a stance one way or the other. Pink, on the other hand, is prickly and opinionated, and very much invested in whatever is happening at any given moment, though it won’t always voice its concerns. By paring a bold, fiery pink with a steady, smokey grey, it will be clear that you too are one with varied, steadfast opinions, and a mind of your own, though the exact nature of those opinions will remain shrouded in mystery.
Grey is anonymous,
wise.
The taste of grey is nothing,
just the smell of smoke.
The sound of grey is whistling
kettle.
Repetitive.
The feel of grey is steel,
flat, cold,
strong, flexible.
Grey is neither
good nor bad,
neither this nor that,
sitting on the fence.
Opinionated.
Casual, chic, elegant. No one can take issue with blue, black, and grey. A somber palette perhaps, but one without fault. Appropriate for early spring, when everything is still dead, but beginning to regenerate.
A black turtleneck top with flouncy cap sleeves implies that I’m about to order a café au lait, even though I don’t drink coffee. This top is much more French than I am, even though I was born in France. It was given to me by an American because she felt she was even less French, and thus unable to wear it in earnest.
The grey A-line midi skirt with black floral detailing is perfect for a stroll through a second-hand book fair, but I read all my books on kindle, so I usually wear this skirt while plotting revenge.
Turquoise tights add a touch of whimsy to this otherwise classic ensemble, making the whole thing appropriately twee for a grown-ass woman with a Twilight Sparkle keychain.
The entire outfit says, yes, I am overdressed for brunch, but let me have this, I have so very little else.
Grey isn’t always melancholic, sometimes she’s just indifferent, but lately she’s been going through a tough time. Her friend Green comes by for a visit and rather than go out and pretend to enjoy the insipid offerings of their city, they agree to stay in. Their primary activity is sipping tea while listening to the rain. Though it’s chilly out, Green insists on opening the window so she can smell the rain as well as hear it; she wants to completely immerse herself in nature. It’s early spring and the weather has been all over the place. Sometimes freezing, sometimes mild, usually snowing. Today the rain is diluting the snow into dirt and creating slush, and Grey wonders if she too is a mix of purity and filth. Perhaps we all are, muses Green, knowing everyone has their strengths and their weaknesses.
Green suggests they play an intellectual board game, such as scrabble, as she’s keen to keep her most important muscle, her brain, in constant motion. Grey shrugs, as she could go either way. They play the game, with Green handily winning, as Grey doesn’t put in nearly as much effort. It isn’t that she doesn’t care about the game, but she knows from experience that Green hates to lose, as she’s got a bit of a jealous streak, and Grey is equally happy winning or losing, since she knows the distinction between the two is irrelevant. Life is meaningless either way.
Green isn’t one to get exasperated, as she’s very patient and calm, but she rolls her eyes at Grey’s nihilism. She brings up the current political climate, wondering if we are destroying the world. Grey wisely points out that the world is better now, statistically speaking, than it’s ever been. And yet, no matter how good or bad the world is overall, for some it is a dystopia, and for others, a utopia. This dichotomy will always exist, argues Green, as the actual state of affairs is unimportant. What matters is perception. Some people are optimists, and others are pessimists. Yes, nods Grey, and some are a mix of both. Finally Green and Grey can agree, as they are both realists.
It is a cool, misty morning when Grey awakes and greets the day. She’s unbothered by the drizzle outside, and some might say she even relishes it, only happy when she’s sad. She sits on her couch wrapped in a blanket and sips herbal tea, listening to melancholy podcasts about the duality of humanity’s nature. It is only when Pink comes over and drags her out of the house that Grey remembers there is an outside world. Pink is ready for anything but knows that her introverted friend would rather do something solitary and calm. They go to a museum where Pink rushes to the modern art section and asks Grey’s opinion of the pop art, which is her favourite. Grey is neutral on the subject, neither liking nor disliking the work. She isn’t exactly unmoved but is mostly indifferent.
Disappointed in her friend’s opinion, or lack thereof, Pink drags Grey to a small bar with a live band covering pop hits from the 80s and 90s. Pink downs tropical drinks and dances in her seat, singing along to the songs. She tries to get Grey to join her but Grey remains immobile, sipping her whiskey slowly, thoughtfully. Finally the band is done and makes way for the beat poets. Grey nods as they discuss the inevitability of mortality in an indifferent world while Pink tries to hide her irritation. She makes an effort to listen, to really understand, and eventually she gets it, transforming into a dusty rose.
“Shall we go, Pink?” asks Grey as the evening winds down and the poets have all turned to drowning their sorrows in drink. “Rose, call me Rose,” Pink replies evenly. Grey is only somewhat regretful at having brought out Pink’s emo side. She’s glad that they can go home in silence, both brooding about the day’s events, but she knows she’s squashed a little bit of Pink’s effervescence. She does nothing though, knowing that time will heal all wounds, and tomorrow is another day. Hopefully, another rainy day.
Grey is a mist slowly crawling along an urban landscape. Concrete and metal skyscrapers disappearing in the descending fog.
It is cool and unemotional, sitting on the fence, neither black nor white, good nor bad. It reminds us that nothing is absolute, there is nuance in everything, and one must usually compromise or else end up unsatisfied. Of course, even with compromise one is usually unsatisfied, which is the inevitability of grey.
Grey serves the same purpose in a wardrobe, to tie colours together without the boldness of black or the pretentious innocence of white. It is a safe neutral (as opposed to brown, which can be contentious), cool but not cold, reliable, dignified, and utterly inoffensive. It can be boring, but is not necessarily so.
I have always veered more towards silver than gold, as it seems the less ostentatious, but equally striking metal. There is power in a grey metallic, but also an ease. There is no glamour in grey, but silver can sizzle. Wear both grey and silver with pride, knowing that you are setting the stage for other colours to shine, as this is grey’s ultimate purpose: to fade into the background, and let others take the limelight.