Helter Shelter
Because I’m in the house-investigating business, I try to keep up with what goes on in the building and remodeling industry. That way, I learn which materials and methods work, and which don’t. Over the years, I’ve managed to cultivate a few tipsters in the remodeling ranks. They keep me caught up on the drama that unfolds every time a working man whips out his hammer and starts tearing into somebody’s house. One of the tipsters called this morning, all wound up about his troubles matching people up with their favorite colors.
“Jowers, I need for you to help me out. Tell those people who read your column that no two people see colors the same. Lately, I’ve had customers climbing all over me complaining about the colors on their walls, the colors on their floors, the colors on their cats and dogs. Nobody likes their colors. And they think it’s my fault—as if I’m in charge of all the colors created by God, man and Porter Paint.”
“Well,” I said, “last time I checked, most contractors ask their customers to pick out all the paint colors, fabric colors and stuff like that. You haven’t turned into a decorator, have you? You’re not going all over town draping fabrics over your arm and rubbing them, are you?”
“No. Hell, no,” said my tipster buddy. “I tell my customers that they’ve got to pick out their own paint, buy it and bring it to the house. Same with fabrics, faucets, lights, tile and everything else connected to aesthetics. But I swear, lately they’ve been hinting that I’m changing their precious colors.”
“So somewhere between dipping the brush in the paint can and putting the paint on the wall, you’re messing up their color schemes?”
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“I’m the contractor,” my tipster went on. “If the colors are off, it’s all my fault. Just last week, a customer walked into her new bathroom and told me that the grout color in the shower was all wrong. I looked at her and said just as nice as I could, ‘You picked out the grout. You bought it. You brought it home, put it in the shower and told me to use it.’ ”
“So what are you going to do?” I asked.
“Now she wants me to paint the grout,” he sighed. “She went out and bought the grout paint, brought it home and put it in the shower. If she didn’t like her own grout, I don’t think she’s going to like her own grout paint.”
Well, I’ve got to support my tipster on this one. You people who think your contractors are either color-blind, incompetent or both, listen to me: the color on the paint chip is not going to match the color in the paint can. The color in the can is not going to match the color on the wall. And the color on the wall is not even going to match itself from one day to the next.
Changing your light bulbs will change the colors in your house. So will the angle of the sunlight as it comes through your windows. When the seasons change, the colors in your house will change. When you wash your windows or change your curtains, your colors will change.
And there’s this: men and women don’t see colors the same. If you’re a woman and your contractor is a man, there could be conflict. I’ve done a little research on this man vs. woman color-vision issue, and here’s what I’ve learned: human eyes, like ink-jet printers, contain photopigments that determine how we see colors. Some men, the color-blind ones, have just two photo-pigments. Most men, and a lot of women, have three photopigments. And quite a few women—about half or a little more—have four photopigments. Those women see colors that no man can see.
If you’re thinking that you should find a four-photopigment woman to help you with your remodeling and redecorating, you might be onto something. Problem is, there’s no good way to count photopigments in an eyeball without removing the eyeball. Still, with a little more than half the world’s women being of the four-photopigment variety, you’ve got a better-than-even chance of finding such a woman without even trying.
Besides the photopigment thing, there’s another problem with men and women trying to settle on colors: we men don’t care much about colors. I’d say that just about all of us are satisfied with the colors contained in an eight-pack of Crayolas. I’m pretty sure that a man can live his whole life without thinking about colors more than, oh, about eight times.
So, you kind and gentle color-sensitive women, help us poor color-ignorant men out. Pick out all the colors yourself. We men are bad at it, and we’ll surely disappoint you. You should go to the paint store and take all the time you need. When you find a paint color you like, brush a big test patch on the wall and live with it for a month or so. If you still like it then, hand a man the can and the brush. We’ll take it from there.