Color trending is silly by definition, but it’s a way to make a living. I have followed Pantone’s (and Color Marketing Group’s) successive “colors of the year” for over a decade now. Every year, a color—with maybe a secondary color—is picked, and then touted among home design and fashion types. The images they use to illustrate the colors are always lovely. This year, I suppose a few people will buy skirts or bags in “radiant orchid,” or maybe even drench their walls in it. Though what do they do in twelve months when their color has expired?
There’s has already been some blowback against the fact that this year’s selection is pink and the word femininity has been—most unwisely—used in some of the marketing language. Indeed, the descriptions that attempt to mine these colors for their essential meanings are the worst components of the promotion.
I do like the Pantone mugs that are being sold at my neighborhood art store—they are about the only items I would buy in any of these colors. Otherwise, I sort of feel like the heroine in The Devil Wears Prada, who is obliterated by Meryl Streep when she can’t see the difference between two blue belts. Boy, does she ever get told.
When it comes to gardening, however, these arbitrary picks make no sense. And like the Renegade Gardener, I think the Pantone people should stay out of gardening. Or maybe the gardening industry should be sensible and not bother to report the colors. They do report them, though, and go further than that; Proven Winners has at least a dozen cultivars with the shade attached to them. (Although most of the flowers do not seem to actually be in the shade.)
I know very few gardeners who pay rigid attention to color when planning or planting their gardens. If they’re smart they look at successive blooming through the seasons, and if they’re really smart they focus at least 60% of their attention on foliage, because the predominant shade of their gardens will always be some variant of green.
Besides, worrying about color seems to be at the least limiting and at the most very frustrating. Although I know some gardeners who avoid one color or other because they simply don’t like it, most of my friends aim at year-round color of some type and as many different colors as they can get. A “riot of color” is a positive thing, at least in my neck of the woods. And one of the biggest hits of the 2010 garden blogger gathering here was the garden of a colorblind gardener (shown above). His and every other great garden I’ve seen demonstrate that color’s something you want, but it doesn’t do to get hung up on it.