A hundred million years ago, I had my “colors” done. It’s an undertaking where an often snooty, holier-than-thou stylist tells you what colors you should wear and/or avoid.

It was an interesting experiment.  Imagine a bunch of stylish mavens, all chattering like magpies — wrapping colorful swatches of cloth around me.  They would then, in unison, make a face like they had just caught a whiff of a sour dishrag.

After a good 20 minutes, it was clear I didn’t look good in any shade of anything.

This unscientific analysis has something to do with the seasons.  For example, if you’re considered an “autumn”, then you look good in fall colors … e.g. burnt umber or harvest gold.  If you’re a “spring”, then you better not be caught in anything but pinks, pastels or something that resembles an Easter egg.

After much debate, the ladies deduced I was a “harsh winter”.  Looking back, I probably should have asked the difference between a regular winter and a harsh winter, but I didn’t want to appear pedestrian or uncouth.

One of the women handed me a small box of eight Crayola crayons and said, “See this box? Do NOT deviate from this color schemata.”

For the last 20+ years, I’ve been relegated to eight primary colors. God forbid I try and wear a mauve or maroon. Woe is me if I attempt a peach, plum or periwinkle.  Nope, I’m relegated to the Crayola crayon box.

I probably should have asked what would happen if I wore all the colors at once.  You never know when I’ll have to run out of the house wearing a rainbow flag.

It was probably a fair assessment … as I look horrid in earth tones. Not to mention, pastels make me look like I have jaundice.  If you have a chance to have your colors done, I’d highly recommend it. You’re bound to learn a thing or two … and be reminded how hideous you look in anything but your specific God-given palette.