Coloring My World in a World Drained of Color

This is a topic I’ve been thinking about for a while, and I finally realized it deserved its own blog post. Does anyone else feel like we grew up in color but are now living in beige?

Personally, my home and my wardrobe don’t reflect that shift, but when I look around, I often feel like I’m in the minority.

And today gave me the perfect example.

I had an appointment with my ophthalmologist this morning. (I was blessed with “a good eye,” but not good eyes, if you know what I mean. Thanks to a history of retinal tears, I get the joy of yearly follow-ups.) I’m always the youngest person in the waiting room, but today I was also, without question, the brightest.

I walked in wearing a bright yellow coat layered over a multicolored blouse, a red sweater, and red flats. Almost immediately, an older gentleman looked up and said, “Beautiful coat.” I joked that I was trying to brighten up the dreary day, and he smiled and replied, “Well, you definitely brightened mine.” Another woman chimed in to say I was the most colorfully dressed person she’d seen come through all day.

Even my doctor commented, asking where I was going “all dressed up.” When I explained that I just like to dress colorfully, he asked what I do for a living. I told him I’m an interior designer, and he chuckled and said, “Well, that explains it.”

That comment stuck with me.

Has wearing color really become so unusual that it needs an explanation? So out of the norm that it feels like you need a reason—like a holiday, or even a profession—to justify it?

None of the comments were negative. Everyone was kind and complimentary.

But it made me pause.

Somewhere along the way, bold color shifted from being joyful and expressive to something that feels unusual, risky, or even a little eccentric.

I grew up in the ’80s and ’90s, when color really did rule the world (hello, Rainbow Brite and The Color Kids, spreading color and kindness everywhere they went). And I don’t think that’s just nostalgia talking—the world truly was more colorful. Look at old photos of parking lots compared to today. Cars used to come in all kinds of colors; now they’re mostly black, gray, and white. Even McDonald’s has gone from bright reds and yellows and playful interiors to something sleek, modern, and monochromatic. I realized later that my red and yellow outfit was practically channeling the old version.

The same shift has happened inside our homes. The interiors of my childhood were filled with mauves, hunter greens, florals, and personality. Was all of it great? No. Was it memorable? Absolutely. I can vividly picture details from my Aunt Mary’s house and my Nanny and Pap Pap’s home, and I’m convinced it’s because of the personality, pattern, and color infused into those spaces.

Today, interiors often fall into one of two camps: an industrial look filled with concrete and metal, or a modern farmhouse palette of white, black, cream, and wood tones. Many people aim for what I tend to call the “Airbnb look”—spaces designed to appeal to everyone.

And that’s part of the problem.

So much of what we see now feels curated for resale, not for living. Homes are designed to be clean and calming, which is fine—but they can also feel a bit monotonous. I think we’ve come to associate color with risk or commitment, something we might “get sick of.” Neutrals feel safer and more flexible. They feel inoffensive.

When people talk about renovating, I often hear, “We need to think about resale.” Unless you’re flipping a property or moving in the near future, I don’t believe that should be the driving factor. Trends change. Styles cycle. What matters most is how your home makes you feel while you’re actually living in it.

I understand the hesitation. Black, white, gray, and beige are often seen as more elegant, more serious, and more respectable. That mindset has deeply influenced corporate culture—and it’s one of the reasons we see it everywhere.

But color doesn’t have to mean chaos.

It can be layered thoughtfully. It can be timeless when done well. And it can make spaces—and people—feel alive. That yellow coat didn’t just brighten my outfit; it sparked conversation and made people smile. It stood out in a sea of sameness.

It also seems that we often reserve color and playfulness for children’s spaces. Nurseries and bedrooms feel like the one place where people are willing to step outside their comfort zone with pattern, whimsy, and bold choices. Walk into a pediatrician’s office, a preschool, or the children’s section of a library and you’re almost guaranteed to experience playful design and joyful color. Think about the way those spaces make you feel. Why aren’t we more willing to let that joy spill into other areas of our homes?

Think about the reaction people had when the Home Alone house was renovated in such a sterile way. People were genuinely upset—yet many of us are still hesitant to bring character and color into our own homes. Sometimes it feels like we’re living in Pleasantville, but in reverse, slowly draining the world of color until everything feels flat.

We’ve all likely been taught somewhere along the way that color affects how we feel. There are countless studies on color psychology and mood, including Seasonal Affective Disorder (no coincidence that the acronym is SAD), which is more common during darker winter months. No wonder a bright yellow coat stood out on a gray January day! We also know that green spaces lower stress and cortisol levels—so why wouldn’t we want to bring some of that same energy into our homes and wardrobes? There’s even a term for it: dopamine dressing. I get an instant dopamine hit when I step into my closet to get dressed every day; it’s great!

So, to wrap this up, think back to what it felt like opening a brand-new box of crayons as a kid—that sense of possibility. That’s how decorating a home should feel. What can you create that reflects you, rather than what’s trending? You didn’t hesitate as a kid to color a horse purple. Who says you can’t choose something a little unexpected as an adult—like purple kitchen cabinets? Honestly, I think that sounds lovely, and I’m actually considering it.

Everything is cyclical. I have no doubt that color and maximalism will make a comeback, if they aren’t already. Maybe we can help it along a bit. Wear the colorful coat. Paint the room. Hang the wallpaper.

I know I am—and it gets noticed, in the best way. If you need me, I’ll be out and about spreading color and kindness in my corner of the world, channeling those Color Kids like a modern-day Rainbow Brite.