Somewhere in a carpet factory far away, a woman pores over a color sample. She studies it in the light from the window and contemplates it with the overhead lights on and off.  Eventually she picks up her pen and names it “Daydream Blue” or “Persian Indigo.” She is: THE COLOR NAMER.          

 And I know the Color Namer is a woman, because, unless they are artists or paint store owners, men do not always see the subtle differences between khaki and taupe or burgundy and wine. Women, on the other hand, know there is no such color as plain pink; there is Rose, Bubblegum, Tutu, Cotton Candy, Carnation Pink, and Pepto-Bismol, to name a few.

Some of the women who become Color Namers are artists who don’t go for entire landscapes. Others are poets with short attention spans. Who else could come up with color names like Blue Bayou and Papaya Whip. Theirs is a humble position with far-reaching consequences. Unwittingly, Color Namers name the bullets that are the first shots fired in the home remodeling war.

After making the decision to remodel or build, choosing a color scheme is the first step in one of marriage’s greatest adventures. My husband and I recently went through this trauma, choosing carpet and paint for a few rooms in our home. I’ve been so inspired by the process that I’ve decided I want to be a Color Namer myself when I grow up, if that should ever come to pass.

Clearly, it’s an important job not only because PL 407 means nothing to anybody except paint store employees, but also because the right color name sells products. Rust is a great name for a color; Rusty Nail is not. Salmon works; Fish doesn’t. These are the decisions that the Color Namer must make day in and day out.

And what a challenge to name every shade, hue, and value of every color ever created. There must be millions! Even humble white has countless variations. There is Ghost White, Seashell White, White Smoke, Cream, and Snow. Tapioca bears a striking resemblance to Button Mushroom and an uncanny similarity to Rice Pilaf which is eerily similar to Cream of Wheat (the carpet color, not the cereal.)

And yes food and beverages are a frequent source of inspiration for our Color Namer who apparently snacks all day on the job. There is Toasted Rye, and Pastry Shell, Oat Bran, Flax, Olive, Mint, and Sugar Maple. There is Wine, Latte, Earl Grey, Cocoa, and Coffee Bean. Our carpet, which is soon to be replaced, was once what I would call Sky after a Hard Rain. It is now Hot Chocolate with Iced Tea accents. Or maybe it’s Mud after a Hard Rain.

Some color names are based on practical items, for example Fire Brick, Mirror Gold, Steel Blue, and my personal favorite, Woodrow Wilson’s Putty. That last one leads me to believe that the queen of color travels for her work. Not only has she been to Woodrow Wilson’s childhood home, she’s been to the desert where she was inspired to name Dune and Nomadic Desert. She’s named colors after the Emerald Isle, Peru, the Everglades, and the Promised Land, though I don’t see how she narrowed the Promised Land down to one color.  

Occasionally the Color Namer uses actual colors in her names, though less than you’d think. There is Cadet Blue, Denim Blue and Deep Sea Blue. There is Sunflower Yellow, Goldenrod Yellow, and Lemon Yellow. But frequently her color names are more abstract, for example, Peaceful Plains, Dreamland, and Tranquility, which sounds like just what one needs after choosing a color scheme.

Dorothy Rosby     is a contributing humor columnist for Fabulously40, visit her blog to learn more about her or (If you enjoy painting or laying carpet, contact drosby@rushmore.com or visit her website