For a while now everyone else thinks Carly is fanatical about the colour purple. She isn’t so sure. She feels maybe she has been labelled as such. She is well aware that people find it much easier to deal with others if they put them in a box. And Carly’s box has three things. Well for the moment, at least, she thinks. Purple, spiral
and prime numbers (2, 3, 5, 7. 11, 13, 17, 19 etc). She made this design to express this and also put the extra ‘e’ to put herself in too as ‘me’. To remind her that she is part of these three things and that they are part of her. They help to provide boundaries for her creativity. Well at least this is the line she is touting.
Carly only really came to purple just before her sabbatical in India. She was making some presents for people she was staying with and asked what colour one of them would like. Bravely her friend said she liked purple. And this was the start. And still to date, no end point. Carly made something purple with dogs on it for her friend. But although Carly likes dogs, so much so she has just got Talulah (a puppy) and she loves cats even more, she has decided that animals won’t be particularly depicted in her obsession of purple, spirals and primes for her art and craft projects. She thinks three things to focus on really is enough of an obsession. But what Carly does like about these dogs is that they are chopped up from an old tea towel at work that had seen better days. Carly cut up all the usable dogs and very roughly machine sewed them onto a new piece of cloth that Carly had specially dyed.
Carly knows how purple is made. It is obviously blue and red. Any primary school child knows that. And now that Carly has grey hair, she can very easily dye it purple. The wash-in and wash-out variety. Carly is rather pleased that she looks stylish and swishes her hair this way and that way, a bit like Miss Piggy from the Muppets. Carly tries to speak in a less snooty voice however. However, there is something wrong with the dye. After a few washes it turns turquoise. Clearly the red part of the purple dye is less tenacious. And one thing Carly cannot abide is weakness. She wants to have purple hair. She has nothing against turquoise. But as she has already made clear. She is only obsessed about three things. Adding in turquoise would be a fourth and this isn’t a prime number and that just isn’t right. So, Carly decides, she will add her own red and pink to the purple to make it stay the right colour for longer. But then she ends up with streaks of purple, scarlet and fuchsia which still doesn’t default to purple. Oh dear. Back to the drawing board.
Carly knows that opposite colours work well together. Which is why yellow suits purple so well. They are opposites on the colour wheel. Last night Carly was involved in a sunset meditation. Everyone else was following the person running the session. Carly however found it difficult to concentrate. So, she looked at the yellow sun as it set. She is pretty sure this will kill off her rods and cones in her retinas but maybe they will regenerate? Whilst she was doing that, she noticed moveable purple blobs appearing around the sun. She would shut her eyes and they would reappear quite large, blob about (they were too blobby to float) and then disappear.
Then she thought about other things she knew about yellow. She felt yellow didn’t really suit her complexion. Although she remembers well her lovely satin egg-yolk coloured dress she had for one of her brother’s barmitzfar. That was probably the last yellow item of clothing she had. And well over three decades ago.
And talking about getting older… She knows one of the real reasons that you cannot age bruises and this is because she sees children as her work, some of whom have bruises as your ability to detect yellow deteriorates as you age. So, another very good reason to concentrate on mindfulness and stop staring at the sun. Oh yes, she said to herself. But whilst having this long dialogue within her head, the sun had set. Phew. Supper soon. But wine sooner!
Before leaving for India on her four-month sabbatical, Carly started collecting purple materials. She knew that fabric, beads and other craft items could be easily sourced in India. But she wanted to take her own things out. She went a bit mad and took out a whole suitcase including 23 rolls of fine yarn, silk scarves, knitted purple hats, a lilac stethoscope, purple ribbons, dried lavender, lilac spray paint, cyanotyping chemicals, paint and brushes, puff paint, stamp ink, a spirograph, washi tape, seeds and bulbs for purple flowers or vegetables to germinate whilst in India, sewing and knitting needles, jewellery pliers and findings, plasticine, foam, fleece, felt, temporary tattoos, fabric and paper scissors. Everything she made was to be in purple or one of the other 24 versions of purple.
These are Amethyst, Aubergine, Blackberry, Blackcurrant, Blueberry, Burgundy, Dawn, Haze, Heather, Heliotrope, Indigo, Lavender, Lilac, Loganberry, Magenta, Maroon, Mauve, Mist, Periwinkle, Plum, Pomegranate, Purple, Tayberry, Violet, Wine
Wait a minute. Carly has been keen on purple for a long time actually. When her first son, Haz was a baby she dyed all his muslin cloths purple. It meant she could easily find them. She also dyed a lot of his vests and Babygro’s purple. And those nifty cotton pads you put in your bra to stop you leaking breast milk. She did other colour dyes for Tobes and Boo. It is so easy with those dyes you pop in the washing machine. Anytime some item of clothing is looking dull or has stains then Carly will whisk it off and usually it ends up purple.
And thinking about it now. Purple is here to stay for Carly. Her good friend Penny had retired early from work to immerse herself in sewing. She makes exquisite garments. Once she came over to Carly’s house with a new prototype of a dress. It was large and quite floaty and ideally to be made in silk or possibly a fine linen. Carly really liked the dress and was delighted when Penny said she would make one for her. She felt very special. She decided she would like to be buried in this purple dress. So being Carly and hugely impatient, she rushed to the local fabric store. There was no linen or silk, so Carly bought four meters of purple cotton. And yes, it was quite a fine and lovely cotton. Penny seemed happy with the choice when she received the fabric. But Carly was healthy, so there wasn’t really any rush. Until Carly phoned Penny and asked her to make the dress. She was going to wear it for her son, Haz’ engagement party. At least no one would be wearing the very same outfit!
Penny was a bit worried that Carly had some terminal disease until Carly reassured her, she wanted to wear it before she died. Then there was the small matter of the pockets. Penny said you only needed pockets if you were wearing the dress when alive. So, she put in two pockets. However, when Carly garnered information from her friends and colleagues. Everyone said you had to have pockets to put in objects to take to the next life.
What Carly hadn’t really considered is how very differently cotton hangs compared to silk or linen. The dress was pretty enormous and yes, it is true Carly is no skinny bean, but she could possibly fit in her three children in the dress with plenty of room for herself. This means Carly has to be creative when she wears it. She wears a sleeveless black leather-look belted coat with the dress. And she knows she can eat to her heart’s content until the day she dies. Bliss. Carly really loves her food. That, luckily, can be of any colour. Subsisting on purple broccoli and beetroot halwa might result in significant and harmful vitamin and mineral deficiencies.
All this talk of death, dying and dyeing has reminded Carly of the real reason she has to stick to purple from now on.
This very inspiring poem by Jenny Joseph says it all.
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils
and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
