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As a kid, I always found it amusing that my dad called everything that wasn’t white “off white”.
I’m not exaggerating here. Every color that wasn’t pure white was lumped together in one description. Peach? Off white. Purple? Off white. How about blue? Yellow? Even green? You guessed it.
It never seemed to have anything to do with how he actually saw color, but he said it to make a point in real estate. Whether it’s antique, ecru, bone, bisque, eggshell, mother of pearl, ivory, linen, lace, or snow, it all pretty much looked the same when you painted everything. And as an experienced flipper, he seemed to have plenty of opportunities to show me exactly what he meant – weekend after weekend, earning extra cash in one of Dad’s houses.
I, of course, disagreed. Every time. Suffice it to say the inevitable conversation that occured between us was full of my emphatic nuh-uhs and his amused smirks. And while he may have been trying to make a point, now that I own my own home, I am finding more and more that he and I definitely don’t see color the same way. And perhaps it wasn’t just him. After stumbling upon this photo recently, I couldn’t help but remember the many weekends with a paint roller in hand, rolling my eyes at my dad’s obvious confusion.
I don’t think I’ll ever manage to convince my dad that purple is not off-white, the thought of this picture will help me be more patient when Scott insists that I’m showing him two swatches of the exact same color. Perhaps it will help you with the hubs, too!

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  1. I think I lucked out / was cursed in that department. My husbands mother is an extremely talented artist and she forced him to do a lot of painting when he was a child. So when we pick up paint swatches he tends to analyze them long and hard and I'm the one standing there saying they're off white! haha. And god forbid I bring something home that isn't the EXACT shade of “oxford blue” that ties into our bedroom. hehe, I like to make him sweat that way.

  2. Hahaha, that's hilarious! Love the diagram.

    My Dad did that to me, except for him it was birds. (pointing to a white bird) “Dad, what kind of bird is that?” “It's a catermong.” (pointing to an entirely different kind of gray bird) “Dad, what kind of bird is that?” “It's a catermong.”

    He did that to my Mom when they first started dating. She was really impressed, until she figured out that he was calling every single bird a “catermong”. :)