Why You Should Love White

I was driving faster than I should have been, always rushing. Not only do I have a lead foot, but I need constant distractions, probably harking back to my first years as a card carrying licenced driver. Now that I am rapidly (and it pains me to say this) approaching middle age, I really do not enjoy driving. As a teenager with the ink barely dry on my newly minted rite of passage (complete with picture and birth date, that I would later try to alter so I could buy alcohol), I would take the tiniest opportunity available to get behind the wheel of my mothers Chrysler New Yorker. Could I run to the store for milk? No problem. Would I be able to pick up my little sister from band practice? You betcha. Go collect the trash cans from the end of the driveway? Absolutely, as a matter of fact Ill just drive down to get them, those cans need to be back beside the garage pronto. Any excuse to show off my barely passing C minus drivers education skills. Looking back I shouldn't have been allowed to drive a shopping cart, let alone a two ton tank of a car. Regardless, off I would go to the grocery store, carefully putting on the turn signal to exit the drive, demurely accelerating to 20mph, as my mother stood at the door with a worried look on her face. As soon as I turned the corner of my street, my parental vehicle would become a Nascar worthy dragster, racing down residential avenues at twice the posted speed limit. I would round up at least six pimply faced buddies with bad 80's hair, and attitudes to match; needing an entourage of friends to help me make the best milk selection possible. We were all so cool, so bad ass, music blasting at eardrum shatter, and unattended cigarettes burning holes into the tan leather upholstery. We would cruise the town like we owned it, making pitt stops at all the local adolescent hot spots, "big pimpin'" in my moms champagne colored town car. Hours later I would drop off my pals, quickly clear the littered car of fast food wrappers and empty Marlboro red packs, (man, was I in the trouble) and frantically make my way toward home. Flying into the driveway with no concern about appearing to be a "safe driver", I slammed the car into park, and sat there a minute to compose myself. Seeing the living room drape pull back from the window, I knew I had to go face the fury of pre cell phone worried and angry parents. I get out of the car with head hanging appropriately, and I take the long shameful walk to the front porch. As my sweaty nicotine stained fingers sheepishly turned the front doorknob, I would realize I forgot the milk.
Yesterday I was driving my sporty new little (American made) SUV to a thrift store that I heard about via a friend. I saw a nun dressed in an all white habit walking up the street. Yes, a nun in full on penguin gear. Head veil (I think its called a wimple) long dress to the ankle, apron, stockings, sensible shoes, a dangling rosary, and everything completely in white. She was stunning! I was at a busy intersection, waiting for the light to change. Typical of when I'm in the car, I fidget, I fiddle with controls, I play with the radio, . My innate nervous energy takes over, as I'm always impatient to get to the destination. Usually stop lights are torturous to me. I find it impossible to sit still that long, but I was completely mesmerized by this beautiful little sliver of crisp white in a sea of colorful people, stoplights, billboards, and shops. I was so engrossed, so transfixed by this fantastic creature that I didn't even notice that the light had turned green. The car horns blaring behind me shook my out of my revere, but I wanted to linger, I wanted to emblazon this gorgeous image into my minds eye forever. As I sat there watching my lovely little cloud of pureness retreat further into the distance, it reminded me of why I love white.
1. White is versatile: it goes with everything, even more white. It enhances color, a pop of color on a white backdrop is dramatic and draws your eye directly to it, and vise versa.
2. White is calming: a room done in various shades of white, cream, ivory and alabaster mixed with plenty of textural elements is just the serene and tranquil spot we sometimes need in our hectic, hustle, bustle lives.
3. White is clean: it brings up mental images of waterfalls dropping into a frothy pools below, or of beautiful snow covered trees, or maybe even an efficient and sterile environment. I love white bathrooms for that very reason, somehow an eggplant colored toilet never computes in my brain as clean.
4. White is romantic: sheer white drapes fluttering gently at a window, white candles flickering softly, a bunch of white flowers in a cream ware pitcher, pure romance.
5. White is comfortable: crisp white linens on a bed, soft overstuffed white furniture and pillows, a fluffy white bathrobe, they all make you want to curl up with a good book or the TV remote and just relax.
The list for white is a long one, and for good reason, white is cool, literally and figuratively. The next time you go to buy sheets and bedding, think about white. Tired of those scarlet walls you loved five years ago?, try out a shade of dove, or misty white to calm you. Wrap yourself in a fuzzy white blanket, put on some mellow jazz and chill. As Martha would say; White, its a good thing!!!