Happy Friday!

I've been thinking about beige. Which is admittedly not a very colorful thing to think about.

A few weeks ago, I read an article in The Atlantic about what the writer called our "color recession." Look around and you'll see it: gray cars, white kitchens, beige sweaters, greige walls, entire houses decorated in shades ranging from oatmeal to...slightly darker oatmeal.

I like neutrals too (especially neutrals with texture). But the article made me wonder why, when we have access to virtually every color imaginable, we've become so reluctant to use them.

For most of human history, color was precious.

When I worked in children's ministry, I taught kids that purple was the liturgical color associated with royalty. I knew that. What I didn't really understand was why.

It turns out that the famous Tyrian purple of the ancient world was extraordinarily difficult to produce. The dye came from Mediterranean sea snails, and thousands of them were needed to produce even a tiny amount. Purple became the color of royalty because hardly anyone could afford it.

For centuries, humans worked incredibly hard to put color into their world. And now that we can have any color we want, we're choosing beige.

Research actually shows that we have strong emotional associations with color. Yellow and orange are associated with joy and energy. Blues and greens tend to feel peaceful and calming. Bright, saturated colors are often connected with more positive, energetic emotions. And purple is associated with creativity, imagination, and contemplation.

And that got me thinking that maybe I've been noticing a different kind of "color" lately too.

Yesterday, I spoke to a Garden Club here in the Greensboro area about Intertwined. Maria came with me. As we sat down and looked at the agenda, she said, "I wish there were more clubs like this for people my age."

I knew exactly what she meant.

Here was a group of women who regularly get together because they share an interest. They learn things. They work on projects. They talk. They eat. They know one another.

Last night, I had another version of that experience. I played Mahjong for the first time with my mother and my daughters. My mother taught us, and boy it is complicated! We were not particularly good. But goodness, it was fun.

And lately I get another version of it every day because Maria is now working full-time at Intertwined. After years of running the creative part of this little business largely on my own, I suddenly have my daughter beside me—brainstorming, problem-solving, traveling, laughing, occasionally disagreeing with me, and building something together. I love it.

Maybe that's why all of these things have been rattling around together in my head.

We have gotten very good at making life efficient. We can buy almost anything without speaking to another person. We can entertain ourselves without leaving the sofa. We can design a home entirely in colors guaranteed not to offend anyone.

There's nothing wrong with any of that.

But I wonder if, every once in a while, we need to choose the less neutral option.

Wear the pink sweater.

Put the wildly colorful Guatemalan pillow on the beige sofa.

Join the club.

Learn Mah Jong.

Sit around a table with people you love.

Ask who made the thing you're buying.

Maybe a colorful life isn't really about color at all.

Maybe it's about filling our lives with the people, stories, traditions and experiences that make them unmistakably our own.

And I'm increasingly convinced that's worth risking a little purple.

Happy Friday,
Ginger

PS -- Speaking of things made by hand... have you seen what's happening in London with the Bayeux Tapestry? This enormous piece of nearly 1,000-year-old embroidery is drawing huge crowds at the British Museum. I absolutely love that. People are lining up to look closely at stitches made by human hands centuries ago. Maybe handmade really does have staying power.