media, pop culture

The colour purple

Recently watching sci-fi thriller Ex Machina, I was intrigued when the protagonist was caught out in a lie detector by answering that his favourite colour was *blue* (non-spoiler alert).  Why is this problematic? Because apparently, having a favourite colour is something only a child might claim. As adults, we supposedly love all sorts of colours and don’t have a specific favourite. So he was wrong. 

I thought hard about this. Sure, I swoon over a rich, deep ocean blue, but have recently been taken viscerally by slate grey. As an adult I am still like my teenage self who was always more kaleidoscopic ‘Romance is Born’ than any minimalist, two tone clothing palette. In fact, when my partner sent me out flat hunting in Brunswick on our first foray into coupledom, I naively assumed he would be gleeful that I had signed on the dotted line for a cheap, two bedroom upstairs apartment with yellow walls in the bedroom…only. Accompanied by a green kitchen, pink bathroom, blue living room and a further red room of pain. 

Pain indeed. Oops. Unsigning was a simple matter of choosing to remain engaged or finding something more modest and less bouncy castle in colour spectrum.

So, here I am happily married for 15 years, with a little sunlamp shining upon that inner city flat in my soul.

There are also colours that I just don’t ‘do’ at all well. 

Bottle green (urgh. Schooldays).

Maroon (urgh. Winter in the 1990s).

Yellow (as in the brassy, roots-and-all tint of tired, bleached hair).

Orange (as in the brassy tint of failed platinum blonde bleached hair when I did it myself in 1993. Wearing a maroon skivvy).

And puce. That’s not a colour. That’s inverted stomach. 

But that lie detector question still remains, even as I am drawn to extreme colour juxtaposition in the myriad landscapes of my life.

Because I still believe I have a favourite colour. It is the colour purple. Specifically, it is this colour purple.


Not aubergine.

Not Violet Crumble or Cadbury’s chocolate wrapper purple. 

Neither rich Shiraz grape nor floral lavender. 

Not deep indigo, nor pinky plum.


Just bright purple. I would call it iris purple, but because I could have eaten these sneakers the moment my eyes sank into them, I’m going to say Converse purple. I mean, for goodness’ sake, I’m visiting Melbourne to take in all of its SHOPPING possibilities, yet the moment I spot these 

they speak to me SO LOUDLY I must buy them…online. 


So here’s to colours, every one. But here’s to defying grown up and taking a stand for your favourite. 


And here’s to the colour Converse purple, once and for all. 

  • For this and other lesser colour sneakers, head to ebay.

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