I actually hated pink. It was never 'my colour'.
I never even thought about colours, just wore my clothes!
I had my skin tone analysed about a week after having my ears pierced twice, because really once just wasn't enough. I had to be different, so when everyone else was having theirs pierced once and that was 'ouch' enough, I was insistent on twice.
The very clever colour consultant told me I was an 'Autumn' and gave me a swatch of very dull drab hues that didn't excite me one bit. Her mantra was that when you wore the right colour people would comment on how lovely you looked , but if it was all wrong for you, they would merely say 'I like that dress'. Of course it was the 'lovely' aspect that totally sold me on the idea.
I rushed off to the nearest department store in search of the new me. What a frustrating afternoon that was. I just couldn't understand why the postbox red was all wrong whereas the bland tomato tint was the correct one. My only choices seemed to be dull tans, ochres, burnt oranges and sickly yellows. The worst part was that 'Autumns' can't wear black near their faces as it makes them look haggard, but I needed my black, it made me look thin!
I never even thought about colours, just wore my clothes!
I had my skin tone analysed about a week after having my ears pierced twice, because really once just wasn't enough. I had to be different, so when everyone else was having theirs pierced once and that was 'ouch' enough, I was insistent on twice.
The very clever colour consultant told me I was an 'Autumn' and gave me a swatch of very dull drab hues that didn't excite me one bit. Her mantra was that when you wore the right colour people would comment on how lovely you looked , but if it was all wrong for you, they would merely say 'I like that dress'. Of course it was the 'lovely' aspect that totally sold me on the idea.
I rushed off to the nearest department store in search of the new me. What a frustrating afternoon that was. I just couldn't understand why the postbox red was all wrong whereas the bland tomato tint was the correct one. My only choices seemed to be dull tans, ochres, burnt oranges and sickly yellows. The worst part was that 'Autumns' can't wear black near their faces as it makes them look haggard, but I needed my black, it made me look thin!
I went home feeling very despondent, believing that I had wasted my precious money and my valuable time. Needless to say I threw the swatch in the deepest drawer and forgot about it.
Months after that I overheard a woman at my yoga class saying that she had just had herself 'colour coded' and rah rah rah how wonderful it all was, completely changed her life. The next lesson I took my colour 'thingie' with me and showed her and she immediately offered to come shopping with me.
This was a new experience for me as I had never been one of those woman who shopped and coffeed with a friend or friends. I have always valued my personal space specially when it comes to buying new things. I cannot see what these females gain by trying on clothes together and giving nonsensical advice to another person whose skin they do not fill.
With lots of trepidation and a dry mouth I met her the following afternoon and we 'did it'. I felt like Cinderella being fitted for the ball, and she knew her stuff. She knew exactly what to put with the drab mousy brown to make it come alive and how to mix and match various bits of clothing to give quite a stunning result. She also somehow understood that I wasn't the frilly, pink, cutesy pie type of woman, but rather a 'feet firmly on the ground' gamin sort of girl.
When she suggested something in pink, albeit muted corally pink, I gulped twice but as she was steering this ship and I trusted her by then, I tried it and thought, 'nice' ( horrid word, means nothing) quite okay, but not yet quite me.
How did I know that 30 years later, not only would I have a large percentage of pink in my wardrobe but also matching pink hair and pink glasses. She would be so proud of me now. SO if you are out there reading this - thanks again!
Months after that I overheard a woman at my yoga class saying that she had just had herself 'colour coded' and rah rah rah how wonderful it all was, completely changed her life. The next lesson I took my colour 'thingie' with me and showed her and she immediately offered to come shopping with me.
This was a new experience for me as I had never been one of those woman who shopped and coffeed with a friend or friends. I have always valued my personal space specially when it comes to buying new things. I cannot see what these females gain by trying on clothes together and giving nonsensical advice to another person whose skin they do not fill.
With lots of trepidation and a dry mouth I met her the following afternoon and we 'did it'. I felt like Cinderella being fitted for the ball, and she knew her stuff. She knew exactly what to put with the drab mousy brown to make it come alive and how to mix and match various bits of clothing to give quite a stunning result. She also somehow understood that I wasn't the frilly, pink, cutesy pie type of woman, but rather a 'feet firmly on the ground' gamin sort of girl.
When she suggested something in pink, albeit muted corally pink, I gulped twice but as she was steering this ship and I trusted her by then, I tried it and thought, 'nice' ( horrid word, means nothing) quite okay, but not yet quite me.
How did I know that 30 years later, not only would I have a large percentage of pink in my wardrobe but also matching pink hair and pink glasses. She would be so proud of me now. SO if you are out there reading this - thanks again!
