In years past I kept buying purple and violet clothing as I think these colors are so pretty. And each first wear, I’d looked in the mirror, and know I’d made a mistake. The new outfit would be moved to the never-wear hanger until donated as a part of my purple donation bag.Purple, gold and their close relatives are just not this girl’s best choice. I’m more of a faded blue-jean, khaki and “drab green” kind of girl. (And I’d like to take this moment to get up on my soapbox and protest the prejudicial stereotyping of my favorite color: drab)
But I have a couple of friends that look fabulous in gold and purple. They don’t know each other; their hair and skin coloring are completely different; and they each represent completely different clothing styles and body types. But when they each frequent the purple and gold pallets of their wardrobes, they look snappy and stunning.And what is the deal anyway? Why are purple and gold so tied to the stereotype of what human history has considered royal? The answer is long and complex and I know but a little. As you would guess, much of this history has to do with the economics of supply and demand; the difficulty of production; and that age-old custom of coveting what thy neighbor (or neighboring nation) might claim as valuable resources.
If interested, a peek into the intertwining of human history and natural history will uncover a specific sea snail that was uniquely required to give up its life in the production of the most royal of purple dyes, going back some fifteen centuries B.C.But I’m more interested in what Mother Nature dons each season of the present year. And she frequently sports a stunning color wheel of purple and gold, in different shades and different hues, especially contrasted by spring and fall seasons.
I’m especially drawn to the autumn gold’s of grasslands, marshes and fields.Brazos Bend wears Mother Nature’s color pallet so very well. The gold’s of an October walk at Brazos Bend State Park: