Bright orange sneakers.

It wasn’t actually a lunge. Lunging connotes quick, sudden and direct. Hers was more like a floating surprise into someone else’s space. It was an interruption, but certainly without direction.

The woman who was interrupted expected that she would be asked for money. But she wasn’t. There was no ask. There was no recognition from the glassy eyes bobbing in front of her.

The other woman, the one who floated in a surprising way, was dressed in a bright orange track suit. It may have been velour. It had a fuzzy look to it. It may have been terry cloth. The jacket was zipped up high, up to her neck. The fit of the pant and the jacket made sense on her long body.

She had one of those jumbo wheeled folding shopping carts next to her. It was filled with bags and maybe a blanket. There was a cigarette lighter and a half pack of Newports in the drugstore bag on the top. There was also two orange bottles without the child proof tops. It was her prescription medicine. But it wasn’t the scripts that glazed over her face.

Her eyes were almost hazel. So they were hazel since they had a bit more color than brown. They bulged out a little bit and the whites had thin variegations of red.

The orange sleeves of her jacket, while filled with her arms, seemed to not belong to her torso. They moved independently of her body. Not in a convulsive way, but fitfully aggressing through the nearby air. She levitated back and forth from the curb to the middle of the sidewalk, like a tethered helium balloon that was starting to loose it’s bounce. Her movements were without rhythm, without rhyme, yet fluid.

Gliding in and out of the lunchtime foot traffic, she silently forced the people seeking sandwiches and grain bowls to move out of the way. Most were glad to avoid her, but a few looked for the cup to toss in some coins. When they searched to end of her orange cuff they only saw a burning  menthol that she never drew to her mouth. And then she receded back until her next teeter into the next wave of pedestrians.

Touché Opaque Couché

My new tank. In the world's ugliest color. Who knew? Who knew?

My fomo curse combined with my insatiable attraction to the mundane drew me to a story about the world’s ugliest color. Thanks clickbait.

The color has a name. It’s opaque couché.

This lowly cousin of olive drab may be the only color that’s designed to repulse consumers, rather than entice them. After extensive research and focus grouping, the UK government determined it is the ugliest color in the world—and they’re putting it on every cigarette pack. “It’s used to deter you, to make you feel sick.” — From Good.

This color is also known as  Pantone 448C. But the Pantone people are not happy with the repellent categorization. They do not think one color is uglier than another. Colors are just colors.

But, there’s a language around color. Color makes us feel.

White can be pure or sterile. Blue is sometimes serene and sometimes cold. Red equals power or anger. Brown can conjure coffee and chocolate or dirty mud. So it’s also the presentation.

Sounds like colors can be complex. Like the color orange.

Orange is hot. It’s not the new black, mind you, but it is top of mind. Orange and all the words that imply orange have become political fodder. Words that make you think orange like pumpkin. Or a greek god that just took a bath in a pumpkin-spice latte. Or a talking yam. Or Code Orange alert. Or an orangutan. Or a tangerine-tinted trashcan. Or  jack-o’-lantern. Or a tangelo fruit-rolloup sweet potato deli meat buffalo wing. Or a Cheeto.

Makes me glad that I didn’t buy that orange leather jacket last winter. It was very very soft. Very classy. It was a winner, it was so much of winning. It was a good deal, and I only make good deals. It only makes common sense. And it only makes common sense with that buttery feel and a hidden zipper (sliver, classy!).  

But I have so many jackets. I  have jackets all over the place by designers. You know their names. They are terrific by the way. All of them, you won’t believe how great they are. They are phenomenal. Tremendous. But some people. Well, many people, are saying that it’s not good. I’m not saying it. But other people are. So, you decide. Orange jacket. Maybe not.

I did buy a new tank. It was a good deal. Linen. Good price. Terrific craftsmanship. Very classy.  The color some people don’t like so much. It’s that putrid Pantone 448C. Frankly, I didn’t think it was the most repulsive color. Who are these researchers? What do they know. I know good colors. I ask myself. I know better because I have a good brain. I’m very very smart. 

While it’s not a “beautiful” color, it looks like a color from nature. Or like spices. Very exotic. Terifically classy. So I heard someone say, someone who’s not very nice, say people will avoid me when I wear it. That’s just nasty. Maybe I’ll wear it on days I don’t want company. So, maybe it’s not a mistake that I bought it. Of course it’s not a mistake. It’s the greatest. But you knew that.