Work Diary: if the day could be coloured, today would be fuchsia

I like fuchsia. It’s not my favourite colour. I don’t have one. I just have ideal colours. How some things should be of a certain colour and not another. So, fuchsia happens to be one of the few ideal colours I like.

Fuchsia exerted importance in my life about 5 years ago when I was refurbishing a store with my architect friend. Yes, one of my many part time engagements that makes my day. : )

I had insisted on painting an obscure corner at the back of the store fuchsia. Nobody knew fuchsia. Nobody liked fuchsia. It was just about to enter the fashion mainstream at that point in time. But it was the only colour that actually ‘screamed’ at me in the shop as we went about mixing pots of paint – another one of my many silly happy moments in life!

Being his usual kind self, my architect friend relented and allowed me two 5L pots of fuchsia. I was happy! I was on cloud nine. And his restriction “nothing in front” didn’t faze me. I had wanted it at the back anyways. I was going to make my girlie, fantasy like garden with a dash of boldness and drama at the back. It was going to be THE drawing factor to the store. Everyone was going to stop in their tracks, stare and drop their jaws … then, talk about it to everyone else. Yes, that was the game plan.

The thing with plans is …

We received objections like never before.
The store owners stopped in their tracks, stared, dropped their jaws and yelled.

We nearly lost our jobs. They were ready to throw us out with whatever remaining fuchsia paint there was left in the pot. Their faces were a shade of fuchsia – can’t decide if it was from the light that bounced off the wall and reflected, or I really screwed it BIG time.

I defended ‘MY fuchsia world’.

My architect friend pacified them. We were going to undo it. Apparently. They were going to get their boring elegant store by sunrise.

I was to have none of it.

I proceeded to put up my chandeliers. White rod-iron benches. Loads and loads of artificial flowers (that were for sale). I painted a partial damask pattern in dark bitter sweet chocolate brown while my architect friend threw a fit and played the guilt game on how he was going to be shunned by the world of architects and designers. How he would only be able to put food on the table by being a contractor. And damned he had to learn how to speak Chinese and chew on a toothpick …

talk about drama!!! { and he isn’t even gay }

At 3 am, tired and concerned that I haven’t had a drink or meal since the 9pm ‘grand tour’ with the owners, he ‘swung’ by. He stopped in his tracks, stared with awe, dropped his jaws and said:

Brilliant! You ARE A @#$%-ing GENIUS. I absolutely love this. I love you.
@#$% if I have to be a contractor. @#$% if I have to slurp noodles and chew on a toothpick. THIS @#$%-ing fantastic corner stays!

We completed the job. The owners were neither convinced nor repealed by ‘MY fuchsia world’. It made some ‘noise’ in the market place. We don’t know what it was. Negative or positive. But the flowers sold like hot cakes. There were back orders for the chandeliers. That much leaked to us. We got a 30% fee cut. But we were HAPPY.

… and, today is one such day. When finally people gottit.
My ‘fight’ and efforts paid off. Now, I can rest for a bit. I am exhausted. But, HAPPY.

{ and coincidentally the PJ top I pulled out in the dark is fuchsia and so is my new toothbrush! }

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