I do not need black.

Or gray. Or beige.

Ever since I became a person capable of operating a motorized vehicle, I realized something.

The most visible car colors are mostly black and white.

My beloved first car is red. Duh.

So… how could that be? Do those colors, or should I say, the absence of color and presence of all colors, truly bring joy to people?

Did you ever see those pictures of appliances from the 60s on Pinterest that were the most darling shades of robin egg or pistachio?

I know the VW bugs used to be manufactured in such sweet hues. What gives?

When you do a simple google search, it blankets the issue with consumer demand and the timelessness of the “fitting in” of black and white.

Well, where is the fitting in with that? 

For me to feel like I “fit in,” I need to be myself.

My color is red.

I so call balderdash to this reasoning. We know exactly where the need for uniformity and inconspicuousness comes from.

Hello? Not allowing women frivolity in fulfilling their charming tastes?

My mind and its manifestations will not be tamed by the institutions of any man!

I also love dressing in a whole rainbow of colors on any given day. I am, in fact, partial to color blocking with two or three colors.

Even monochrome looks, you may find me in, at other times. I am not trapped by a notion to dress just like everyone else, and certainly not wear the colors that they are wearing.

We learned from Miranda Priestly in the Devil Wears Prada that colors are just as much a part of fashion as silhouettes and the pendulum of minimalism to maximalism. It goes in cycles.

What was on the runway one season filters down to the mass productions over the course of the next. And all colors will come back, in due time, in the next cycles. 

Some may elect to follow this to decide which colors to wear and be “on trend.”

I do not see anything GP about predicting trends as they evolve from the past. It is highly detailed work, people!

What sets it apart is those that predict the trends, and those that dress by the trends.

You see, us Queens are in the business of captivating breath. It is the work of timelessness. 

How else may I grace the stage?

With the weight of a boring shoe burdening my luculent, brilliant mind?

This leads me back, as cyclical as even our own conversations can be, to the title of today’s post.

I will NOT be looking to nude or black as a shoe that “matches everything.” That might be the most preposterous thing I have ever heard.

Why do we not seek instead the shoe that will match ourselves?

This goes far past possessing enough funds to purchase as many shoes as needed to match any given color or a dress.

We are dressing without the constraint of time, are we not?

I know that everyone has their own standards, and I fully respect that, but you will never hear me supporting the necessity of a color simply to match everything and its availability.

Do you understand? Knowing oneself is not simple!

And by the by, I much prefer to maintain my own. Standard, that is.

Bring back those gorgeous appliances and commercialized colors! I crave them in my sights! For the grace of my soul, I seek shoes that stand out, whether they match my outfit or not!

Whichever pumps strike my fancy will match my dress. Which will match my mood. And fit into my life. Which is meant for me!

Pastels are neutrals.

Bold fuschia and magenta and royal blue and chartreuse are neutral.

And my goodness, is red the most unfiltered match to any gown that I could ever fathom.

Give me sparkles! Polka dots! Pom poms!

I will not be dictated by the confines of what suits the common man. That black and white are the least offensive colors, least likely to cause a scene.

I will cause a scene if I so please!

Give me a pastel kitchen!

Give me the things that dazzle my soul!

And give me something to sing about!

Because I will never stop.