On white - essay

I like my mother-in-law. She's a nice lady. But she has only two interests in life: shopping, and what I guess comes under the heading "House Beautiful." Thus, on her latest visit she announced that one of our bathrooms needed painting. My wife, eagerly agreeing with this, demanded to know what color I wanted. "I don't want it painted," I replied defensively, believing if it was painted I would end up having to do it. They persisted, finally promising with uncrossed fingers to paint it themselves. But they still demanded a color preference. When I continued to demur they threatened pink. I said "no pink" (they knew I absolutely hated pink). Then they threatened yellow. "No yellow," I insisted. "Then what color do you want," they demanded. Finally, desperate to silence them, I said "white. Paint it white." I thought it was settled and they would leave me in peace with my books and the TV.
I was naive. I thought white was white. Even in my wildest dreams I did not realize there were hundreds, of colors, perhaps even more, that can be referred to or labeled "white." There are, for example, colors classed as white with names like "Light Antique," "Plum Black White," "Solo White," "Natural Echo," "White Solitude," "Sea Cloud," "Delicate Aire," "Picket White," "Camella," "Intimate White," "Respectfully White," "Serene White," "Apple Peel," "Poetic White," "Composed," and literally dozens more. And these are all from only one manufacturer! Looking at a different sampling you come across whites called, "Granitoid," and "Snowball." At least one manufacturer doesn't have a category of "white" at all. But there clearly are "whites." For example, there are "Arrogance," "Divinity," "Wisp," "Debonair," "Fancy Free," "Tiffany," and again, many, many more. Elsewhere you can find "white" under names like "Topaz Light," "Cafe Creme," "Seashell White," "Ultra Hide White," "Bright Ceiling White," "Soft White," and even, would you believe it, "White White." This by no means comes close to the total number of "whites" there are in the imaginations of paint manufacturers. A recent ad from one line of paint boasts "68 perfect shades of white." These include "Country Dairy," "Tuxedo Shirt," "Sneaker White," "Edwardian Linen," "Petticoat White," and etc.
One of the larger and better known companies, apparently aware of the absurdity of trying to find cute names for hundreds of shades of paint, doesn't use names at all, merely numbers. Under the category "Off-Whites and Pastels" they offer 132 paints (numbers 841-973). Thus, when someone compliments on your color scheme, you can say with a perfectly straight face, "Thank you, that is a combination of 856 and 921," surely no more ridiculous than having to admit to a combination of "Candelabra White" and "Polo Mallet White," or "Moonlit" and "White Solitude."
Naturally, when confronted with the enormity of the problem, I fled in terror until the deed was done (and everything was dutifully cleaned up and put away). Frankly, while I can tell the difference between some of the extremes they claim to be "whites," for the most part I honestly can't perceive much difference. Furthermore, when I can see a difference, I deny that the paints are "white." To me they are clearly tans or blues, or yellows, or whatever, but they are not white. I'm surprised anyone paints anything these days, what with having to make such momentus decisions. Anyway, after several days of difficult decision-making, mother and daughter finally agreed on "Apple Peel" and something called "Orange Tint." They did a fine job. The bathroom looks nice. It's white.