Can a change in favourite colour signal inner transformation?

Between early middle age and the onset of old age, people who I knew called me  the “Man in Black” because I loved to flaunt all things black that could be pulled out of my wardrobe. It was a hangover from my days in Singapore where both men and women considered the colour a symbol of class. Office meetings or night parties, the rich on the island republic turned up in black, arriving in equally dark luxury cars.

I had noticed the same colour scheme in Moscow where the nouveau riche moved around in the best automobiles. The bleeding red of the erstwhile CCCP flag was not a fad the last time I was there.

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The colour black had such an overbearing influence in my life that I even touched upon the topic in the early days of Life is Like That. “What I enjoy most in black is the mystery associated with the colour. People in black expect an inconspicuous feeling, but end up being the centre of attention, eliciting comments and queries. While black is an elegant, prestigious, and authoritative colour, it can evoke strong emotions, which could be one of the reasons mourners wear it at funerals,” I wrote once.

Then, one day, I moved on. Maintaining a cupboard full of classy blacks was as expensive as maintaining a Maybach. Contributing to that radical change in my couture culture were the mushrooming budget outlets, as big as some of the shopping malls in the UAE. Their huge collections of trousers, tees, casuals and jackets were so addictive I began to spend my weekends scouring such places, trying casuals as vibrant as Indonesian batik designs. My sisters frowned, wifey rolled her eyes, children called the look “funny”,  and those who liked it swallowed their compliments out of jealousy when I sported clothes as crazy as Rainbow Bertha Tie-Dye T-shirts.

It was during this sartorial switch she dropped into my little space out of the blue. “Are you sure you want to carry on with black forever?” she asked soon after we touched base on Messenger.

“Like humans, colours need some breathing space to rejuvenate themselves, so give them a break to love you back,” she said. She sounded amply authoritative.

Coming back after a painstaking passage through all my social media accounts, some as old as 15 years, she left a message: “Oiii, try out blue and let me know how you feel.”

“The sky is where you can learn better about colour schemes,” she said. “The sky isn’t blue every day. It’s black when it rains; pale when it snows, blue when it blossoms, russet during the sunrise or sunset,” she continued to educate me.

“Thank you, but who are you?” I was keen to know more about my new visiting professor. “A designer, fashion designer,” she said, and disappeared into oblivion.

Over the weekend that followed, I rummaged through the wardrobe for blue tees before spending money on new ones. And there it was. A heavily creased and crumpled casual pulled out of a bag destined for the recycle bin.

“There you are, no more the old block in black,” she wrote after seeing my latest selfie on FB. I too felt the colour blue had changed my persona. 

“You look sprightly and brimming with confidence. Blue brings out the best in you. Blue accentuates the buoyancy of the human spirit,” she wrote.

The rest of what she talked about was typical of any diligent designer. I loved the beauty of obscurity that pervades a designer’s perceptions about life and its small things.

But was it really my first brush with blue? I had romanced the colour in the early years of my writing carrier, especially in a piece about the Indian sari. Here’s a throwback: “I felt wifey’s goodbye kiss in the morning. The smell of a new dress lifted the iron curtain of hangover. A blue sari with a touch of jerry at the hem. I lay down watching the blue gradually spread into my eyes.”

“Blue is more versatile in terms of colour, design, and even linguistically. While back typically has a doomsday reference, blue has more than a dozen phrases made out of it — blue-eyed, feel blue, out of the blue, blue blooded, black and blue, blue-collar, feeling blue, blue in the face, blue devils, blue room, go blue, blue films, baby blues — to mention some,” she kept messaging.

Moving beyond blue, she occasionally touched on the aesthetics of dressing. “Do not tuck in your tees, buddy. Let it flow but keep it short, especially when you wear blazers.

Scavenging through nearby fashion outlets on the following weekends, I found out that there are different shades of blue that suit different budgets and moods. As I made a big splash in the sea of blue, painting social media blue, wifey asked pointedly: “Why this change out of the blue, darling? You seem to be shamelessly letting yourself go down a blue hill.”

Wriggling out of the black magic of blue one day, I gathered up the courage to counter my design professor on Messenger: “Listen lady, why are you painting me blue? I am not a pushover.”

“Because I have designs on you. And mind you, there’s blue in my name too,” she messaged, with three blue hearts and a bunch of blueberries.

Suresh Pattali

suresh@khaleejtimes.com