Colour Isn't a Puzzle to Solve

I wanted to write this today because an awful lot of people tell me how hard they find colour.

Mixing it in a room. Knowing which shades to choose. Creating a cohesive look throughout an entire home.

But honestly, I think people get far too stuck in their heads when it comes to colour.

Somewhere along the way we’ve started treating colour as a problem to solve rather than an experience to have.

We analyse it. Research it. Second-guess it. Look for rules. Look for formulas. Look for reassurance that we’re making the “right” decision.

But colour isn’t really like that.

Colour is something we’re drawn to (or not) instinctively. And so it follows that we need to trust our emotional reactions to colour, rather than trying to work out some detailed diagram of how to mix shades together perfectly throughout our homes.

That’s easy for you to say, Sam.

And yes, colour does come intuitively to me. I’ll admit that.

But I genuinely believe that everyone can figure out which colours they love, and which colours feel good together, if they take a moment to pay attention to what they’re naturally drawn to.

The problem is that we have far too many references these days.

Open Instagram and you’re presented with thousands of beautifully curated homes. Open Pinterest and there are thousands more. Combine that with the feeling that our homes are somehow no longer just for us - that they’re being judged by visitors, by social media, by people we’ll never even meet - and it’s easy to see why decorating can feel overwhelming.

• Will I like it?

• Will they like it?

• Will I get bored of it?

• What if it’s too much?

• What if I waste money?

And so we hesitate.

Writing this, I’m sitting directly in front of a wall painted in Rolling Fog Dark by Little Greene. It’s the colour that forms the backdrop to my open-plan sitting room, dining room and kitchen. When I surface for air from my keyboard and screen, it’s this colour I stare at while my mind wanders. It has a stillness to it that I find calming. A depth that I find reassuring. The natural light moves beautifully across it throughout the day.

Is it brown? Probably not.

Is it taupe? I’m not sure about that either.

In fact, you might be surprised to know that I often struggle to name colours specifically. Part of me never really wants to. Clients sometimes expect colour specialists to have an encyclopaedic vocabulary for colour. To know exactly where taupe ends and mushroom begins. But I’ve never found that particularly interesting.

What interests me is what a colour does.

• How it makes a room feel.

• How it changes as the light shifts.

• How it affects your mood.

• How it sits alongside the objects and people you live with every day.

Perhaps that’s why I think colour labels can sometimes do colour a disservice. They tie people up in knots. They attach assumptions and rules where none really need to exist.

Because colour isn’t a puzzle to solve. It’s an opportunity to feel something.

Not in a bold, bright, look-at-me sort of way. But in a quieter way.

• A way that allows you to explore how your surroundings affect you emotionally.

• A way that helps you understand why one room feels restful and another energising. Why one colour makes you want to linger and another makes you want to leave.

For all the conversations we have about colour palettes, undertones and paint charts, I think that’s the part that matters most.

Not whether a colour has the perfect name.

Not whether it’s technically right.

But whether it feels right to you.