Yellow and Me: It's Complicated

I have a confession to make.

I don't like yellow.

Actually, that's putting it mildly. I have what might qualify as a psychological aversion to yellow.

When I was in grade school, my mom dressed me in an all-yellow outfit. Apparently, I headed off to school looking like a tiny ray of sunshine.

Then some asshat called me Banana Pants.

And somehow, Banana Pants followed me for what feels like the rest of my life.

Years later, I was working as a waitress when that very same asshat came in with a date. And not just any date—my boyfriend's ex-girlfriend. He saw me and, apparently still incredibly proud of himself after all those years, exclaimed:

“Hey, Banana Pants!”

Yes. Years later. In front of my boyfriend's ex-girlfriend.

Some childhood nicknames really know how to commit. So yes, when someone shows me something yellow, my immediate reaction tends to be:

No.

But here's the problem. Sometimes yellow is actually really beautiful. And as an interior decorator, I have to separate my childhood Banana Pants trauma from what actually works in a room.

Yellow Has a Personality

Here's the thing about yellow.

It can be a ray of happy sunshine.

Or it can be completely irritating.

There doesn't seem to be a lot of middle ground.

Used properly, yellow can make a room feel cheerful, warm and alive. It can bring sunshine into a space that needs it. But too much yellow—or the wrong yellow—and suddenly it's all I can see. It's shouting at me.

And that's probably my biggest issue with yellow. It's a colour that doesn't always know when to be quiet.

Yellow Has Actually Rendered Me Speechless

And I mean that literally.

I've walked into a customer's home, looked around at their newly painted yellow walls and then heard the dreaded words: “We just painted! Do you like it?”

And...

Nothing.

I've got nothing.

I'm usually pretty good at finding something diplomatic to say, but apparently there is a particular shade—and quantity—of yellow capable of completely shutting down my vocabulary.

My colleagues know this about me. In fact, they've been known to show customers the before photos of a room with yellow walls and announce, completely straight-faced, that the yellow was my choice.

And then they laugh and laugh. Because they know there are very few decorating accusations that would offend me more.

Fine. Yellow Can Be Beautiful.

There. I said it.

Because as much fun as it is to blame Banana Pants for my lifelong relationship with yellow, I do have to give the colour some credit.

A soft, mild yellow paired with crisp white and beautiful blues can be lovely. Put that combination into the right farmhouse or cottage setting and suddenly yellow isn't irritating at all. It's fresh. It's cheerful. It's welcoming.

That's yellow being a ray of happy sunshine. And sometimes you don't really see the yellow at all.

And Here's Where My Anti-Yellow Argument Falls Apart

I actually love a yellow accent with grey. There. Now I've really said it.

Grey can sometimes feel a little serious or flat on its own, and a small hit of yellow can completely wake it up. A pillow. A piece of art. A throw. A chair. Some flowers. You don't need much. That's the kind of yellow I can get behind. It's not screaming at me from four walls. It's doing its job, adding a little happiness, and then sitting back down.

And perhaps that's the secret to decorating with yellow. You need to pay attention to the shade, the undertone, what you're pairing it with and—maybe most importantly—how much of it you're using.

Yellow doesn't necessarily need to be the star of the room. Sometimes it's much better in a supporting role.

So apparently, after all these years, I've discovered something about myself. I don't actually hate yellow.

I just need yellow to know its place. Use it well and it really can be that little ray of happy sunshine.

Just please...Don't give me the pants.