The 2015 Color of the Year and My Nomination for 2016 Color of the Year

Unlike last year’s cheery Radiant Orchid that supposedly evoked optimism and sophistication, Pantone’s selection of the muted, slightly muddled Marsala as its choice for the 2015 Color of the Year was greeted with mixed reviews.

Marsala, according to the Pantone’s press release, is the color that will enrich “our mind, body and soul, exuding confidence and stability.” Its touted as a “subtly seductive shade” that promises to draw us in “to its embracing warmth.”

Well, not so fast, Missy.

Others have failed to see its beauty, spewing out less than favorable reviews. Most notably this from The Atlantic, “Think rust, the grimy, gag-inducing type that lines corners or frat boy dormitory-style bathrooms. Or blood, the freaky dried kind whose iron content has been exposed to the air long enough to evoke a dull brick.”

Jeepers creepers, when you put it that way, I’m not sure I want that around my house. But I actually like the burgundy tone of Pantone’s 2015 Color of the Year.

More importantly, I like the name of it. Marsala. It reminds me of chicken Marsala, and, hey, what’s not to like about that tasty little dish? But I digress…

Still, it’s no secret that naming colors would be my dream job. I envision myself sitting in a fancy, schmancy corner office after traipsing around the world visiting exotic places (for inspiration) and coming up with extraordinarily creative names for colors for ordinary paint chips. And, all this, of course, while earning a bazillion dollars.

So Pantone guys and gals… I’ve already got your 2016 Color of the Year.

I call it “Taffy Tabby” reminiscent of Howard of the Shelter Cat. Here’s part of my bazillion dollar marketing campaign press release: “Taffy Tabby spins a luxurious mix of vibrant orange hues and esoteric vanilla enhanced creams evoking a fine zen-like balance between playful and serious.”

It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it… why not me?

And Pantone, no need to thank me. Just pop my check in the mail.

Homes for sale in Red Oak & Selling Memories

I’ve never been much of a sentimental kind of gal. No siree, Missy. I trudge ahead, barreling forward rocketing into that great oblivion we call the future.  

I am not a looking-back-kind of gal.

So it’s a bit odd that I’ve been waxing a bit poetic and been a tad sentimental the past few days.

I recently sold a home owned by a former student of mine. At closing, she got a bit teary-eyed, and then that got the escrow officer teary-eyed. But, I (who remained dry-eyed) scurried off to locate a box of Kleenex. Finding none, I returned with a napkin I rustled up from the break room.

The sale was an emotional one for my client because it had been her first home. While she dearly loved that house, she needed to move on.

As I was driving back to the office, I made a mental note to start bringing Kleenex to closings because this (ad)venture in real estate has always been more than just selling houses. 

We sell memories, bringing the promise of new ones and new dreams.

And, at least for me, it’s a moment, a glimpse, a condensed vignette of a life moving forward with faith in the future.

I thought about my client again as I drove on down the road and realized I will always see her as that young teenager sitting on a blanket listening to Tom Petty belting out “Runnin’ Down a Dream.”

But isn’t that what we do throughout our lives? We're all just running down a dream… goin’ wherever it leads…