Red

Few colours receive as much guff, grief and attention as red. There has been much ado about red letters, red lights, red dresses, red shoes, red flesh, red blood, red eyes, red men, red hats ... red anything, really.

I only came into a love of red as a mature adult; some mean-hearted soul told me as a teenager that "red wasn't my colour," and so I believed that without verifying it myself for many a year. And then one year I bought a red coat (which I still wear and receive compliments on) and that was the end of that.

I seem to consciously wear red more so than any other colour, meaning, I may wear anything by rote, but I will pick red on purpose. I feel differently when wearing red, and it's not always the same feeling. Sometimes it's brazen. Sometimes it's sexy. Sometimes it's powerful. Sometimes it's vivid and sunny, even lighthearted. But it's always something; something I want to project or convey.

So when you see me wearing red, I hope you ask me about it, about what I hope to convey. Because it's surely something, and whatever it is is never boring.