Color Story of a Cherokee Purple Tomato


In September, I decided to try my hand at a color story. I was standing at my kitchen island one day, looking at the various bowls brimming at the crossroads of Summer and Autumn.

There were peaches, plums, apples, onions, cherry tomatoes and one just-fallen-off-the-vine, a-blush-past-green, Cherokee Purple Tomato. Amongst all that color, my eyes fell on that one tomato. Those were the colors I wanted for my story.

As you can see above, the underside was a dusky pink and the shoulders a bright green. I planned as soon as possible to buy props for my color board. Well, not only did time not allow for shopping, but that tomato changed every few hours it seemed. The pink deepened into streaks of hot-pink, briefly, and the green darkened. Daily, the pink deepened into an almost purple, while the green grew darker, still.

Then, at a certain point, we ate the tomato. That was its destiny after all.

I tried to hold that dusky pink and bright green in my mind. My Black Cherry tomatoes that I was still harvesting were roughly the same coloring, although they never achieved the watermelon-pink streaks.

Finally, a clear scheduled allowed me a few hours to search shops for yarn, fabric, paper and paint chips. I had a little container of the cherry tomatoes with me in varying stages of ripening. I should mention that my neutral addition was a chocolate brown.

There I was holding tomatoes up to paint chips and skeins of yarn, and nothing matched. The closest I got to the pink was the pair of gloves you see.

I came to the conclusion that we can't really match nature to synthetics, not when you've got the real deal right there in your hand.

I had fun with this assignment and look forward to trying again with a different color scheme. In the meantime, however, please have a seat, take a little time for yourself to write down your thoughts (maybe plan your next blog post), have a cup of tea and some gingerbread.

Those gloves by the way are cashmere. Enjoy them, they are really soft.