My Red & White Romance: Part 1

Welcome back!

Come on in and make yourself at home. Today I'm in the mood for a cozy tête-à-tête. I'd like to tell you something about me: I'm deeply devoted to the colour red. In fact, I, myself, only became aware of this a short while ago. As far as fashion is concerned, I realized that red repeatedly shows up in my choice of clothing, shoes and accessories, mostly making solid appearances, whereas in decorating, I tend to lean towards the pretty perfection of pattern.

 

I smile at the thought of gingham, checks, stripes and plaid and how they have the power to magically revitalize a tired old armchair or add whimsy to a weary window frame. I'm not afraid to let these elements take centre stage and I often group them together to let them share the limelight, either against a backdrop of solid red or happily let them co-exist and complement each other.  For me, the combination of red and white, whether it appears in patterns of polka dots or plaid is pleasing to the eye and happy for the heart!

via country living

It seems that this connection to the colour red goes back to my childhood. The first memory I have of me and Red (sounds like my sidekick!) is actually captured in a photo. I'm about two, wearing a red and white one piece bathing suit and dancing on the couch between my dad and grandfather who are applauding me with cheers of "Opa!", which is a celebratory Greek affirmation. I wanted to show you this picture but couldn't find it; it is probably nestled among hundreds of others in ratty cardboard boxes that sadly haven't been appreciated in a very long time due to the pressing business of daily life. Anyway, a few years later and another red and white bathing suit and red flip flops to match, I remember the very first time I lost something.

Google

I was around eight and we had gone on a family picnic to Centre Island, which is a short ferry ride from Toronto. It had been a very eventful day with barbecues and swimming, funfair rides and cotton candy and as we were packing up our belongings in the park, I suddenly got confused and didn't know if the wet bathing suit on the picnic table was mine or the little girl's whose family had set up their gear next to us. I was too shy to ask her and so I left the bathing suit on the brown picnic table and only later when my mother asked me for it when we got home, did I realize that it was indeed mine. 

 

They say that a child's character is formed by the age of seven. Well, I can testify to that! Although I am considered to be extroverted and assertive, I am equally reserved and diffident. Sometimes I think of that day, and my little red and white bathing suit, quietly dripping on that wooden table in a dark empty park, and the little girl who cried for it that night.

Needless to say, since then and in my younger, no-effort skinny years, I have strutted my stuff in some sassy red and white swimsuits, several pairs of ruby red flip flops and even dabbled with daring shades of red to brighten up my lips or cover the white in my mane. So maybe, just maybe, my mania with this duo is justified!

 

Similarly, it is most fitting why one day out of the blue, my daughter, Liberty, decided to start calling me Poppy. She said that when she thought of me, the colour red appeared before her eyes in a delicate and dainty shape, like that of a poppy! It didn't even need to grow on me; it bloomed instantly and spread rampantly to other members of my family picking it up, some changing it up slightly depending on my mood or their mood at that moment. Thus, I am always the honoured recipient of a brilliant bouquet of sweet and affectionate endearments.

Thanks for visiting,

PS: My love affair with Red is not over....
Stay tuned for Part 2!