Growing up, I hated red.
The colour was too much for me. It was loud, reminded me of blood, and most of its shades seemed angry at something or someone.
But I guess what truly influenced my dislike was the fact that red also meant weddings.
Almost every bride back then wore red. And I have always hated weddings and marriages. Because I had never seen a happy married woman.
So perhaps red became guilty by association.
Fast forward to today, and I tolerate red. Brides have started wearing different colours these days. Pastels, pinks, greens, ivory, even wonderfully unconventional shades that would have been unthinkable when I was growing up.
So red no longer has quite the same hold over me. I can tolerate it now. Just a little bit. As a pop of colour. Not the whole outfit. Not yet.
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