I hope I haven't offended any of my friends by going on and on about orange in my previous post. Everyone has different tastes, after all, and that's peachy, no pun intended. But I think I might have touched a nerve.
Yesterday, just before a quilt class, I wandered about the shop and saw some fabrics I just had to have. (Batiks. Big surprise there.)
One of them is what I consider to be a burnt orange, which has long been an entirely acceptable shade as far as I'm concerned, but that's just me.
Well, did I ever get some ribbing about choosing a color in the orange family!
"It's burnt orange," I said, somewhat defensively.
"It's orange," I was told, firmly.
"It's burnt orange," I insisted.
We carried on like this a few more times without one iota of variation on the theme, and I realized that from now on, any time I pick a color that even remotely resembles anything orange, teasing will rain down upon me like a Biblical plague of locusts.
I brought it upon myself.
This morning, I pulled an orange (the fruit) out of the fridge to prove my point, to me, at least. And the orange (the fruit) is indeed orange-ier, brighter and more glaring, than the fabric, so there!
But y'know, the fruit orange kinda looks good next to the burnt orange. It's a pleasing gradation in color.
WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?!
Quilting does this to people. I've heard about it. An unexpected combination or pop of color you thought you didn't like can really set off a design and make it better. You can't hate any color. Not for long, anyway. It doesn't serve you well.
So, okay, fine, I like some oranges. I always liked coral, for example.
(Or did I?!)
(Insert ominous music here.)