I like Green. My mother hated it.
I always thought it was such a shame because it was a colour that really suited her. It matched her green eyes but a traumatic life-changing event as an 18-year-old wife meant she would never look at green.
She was married to a high-ranking officer in the British government based in Egypt. When she became pregnant, he decided he wanted his son to be born in England so sent her back to her relatives. It was the 1930’s when the concept of an ensemble consisting of a matching coat, dress, and hat in wrinkle-resistant materials was in vogue for international travel. Mother’s wardrobe was all green.
Soon after she arrived in the UK, unbeknown to them both the geyser (old boiler) in the bathroom in their marital home in Cairo was leaking carbon monoxide, which if you may not know, is a gas that keeps low to the ground so when he had the misfortune to slip as he got out of the bath and collapse, he died of poisoning.
Green for me is such a gentle colour. It’s not hot or cold but just right. It’s signals hope and growth and the future. All attributes that would have been an anathema to Mother. It is such a versatile colour. After all just look at nature and the different shades within the same palette. Sitting in the garden, I looked at the various shades and imagined them being put into a league table. Which would go at the top? The dark bottle green of the holly which feels so majestic especially with its enticing red berries in the winter. Or would it be the palest of greens signalling fragility?
Without knowing, I developed a faint antipathy for green, although not the aversion my Mother had but, as I grew, green grew on me. Now, although it is not my favourite favourite, green will always be part of my
world and I can’t help feeling sad that Mother was reminded continuously of such a sadness.
This post was written in response to Beth Kempton’s journal note ‘Colours’.
Do you have a colour that you consider lucky or even unlucky? Do share the story below.
Green is my favourite colour too. I see it as hope, growth and what I call verdantising... the gentle art of becoming greener, inside and out. It made me feel for your mother, and grateful that we can choose a different story for the same colour. X
What a lovely, moving story Julia. I adore green in all its shades and am lucky to see it every morning when I look out on to the garden. I find it a very soothing and healing colour. x