From the pavement to the clouds, you’re everywhere these days. I know it’s November, I’m not asking for blue skies and green grass, but at least a couple different hues would be nice. When I stare off into the horizon, it’s the same the whole way up.
Don’t get me wrong, grey can be striking. If there was some nice charcoal, maybe some dove grey and a few blue-tinged tones this could be beautiful, like a black and white movie. But grey, if you aren’t going to throw a couple other shades in there, it’ll be up to the other colours to step it up. I can find beauty in your multitude, but not in your monochrome.
It’s one thing if you’re going to take over the outdoors, but could you please stay off me? I know you’re a great neutral and everything, but Eyore is not a good look for me. The other day I took off my sweater and realized I was wearing grey from head to toe, shoes to scarf. That’s the problem grey: you’re too easy. You are the epitome of earth tones, you go with everything in my closet, and you even go with yourself.
Grey, you trap me. I look outside, and I don’t feel like trying. You don’t inspire me to find something great to wear today, or even just something good. You make me sad. So I don’t try. I go back to the basics and throw something on and look in the mirror and realize, you got inside. When I’m wearing all grey, I feel grey.
Colours have the power to affect our mood, but none so strongly as grey. Everyone gives all the credit to red, making bulls charge and cars stop, or to yellow, reminding us of sunny mornings and kid’s birthdays. But grey doesn’t provoke emotion, it erases it. Grey is light in the absence of colour. Grey can’t make up its mind, and isn’t even trying to. Passion, even anger or sadness, is preferable to the numb muffle of grey.
Dear Grey, you can have the outdoors. You can wash over the sidewalks and skies, tinting trees and climbing up buildings. But please, get out of my head.
Eyore no more