Orange is the new...

What's yo flava, tell me what's you flava mmm.

Remember those commercials? I do. Fortunately, this pop culture reference circa 2011 Crystal Lite infomercials is significant to our topic of the day, being (drumroll) What's yo color? Tell me what's yo color mmm.

It's a valid question. Though parallel to my defective mood ring perpetually reigning the color orange (stressed and indignant according to wikianswers) only in coincidence, your color is more reflective of the superficial stressors. Like, how the color complies with your skin tone, whether the sun will reflect or absorb the pigments of said garment in both cumulus and stratus cloud fixtures, how versatile the color is in conjunction with the contents of your current scheme wears, etc., etc.

Some people (me) are just plain lucky and meet their maker ripe in their adolsecense. One July afternoon in preparation for at my sister's post-softaball season beach party, I was getting all dolled up for the festivities in my best lake party-caj attire when a self-induced panic attack struck: I had nothing to wear. Bikini's were out of the question seeing as how I had worn all six of them religiously for the past week soaking up rays at my neighbors pool ( I was 13 at the time, spare me), leaving a slew of unsightly one-pieces mean't for the YMCA and the YMCA only. It was just my luck that among the attendees would be my friends two hot Justin Beiber pre-convict, stunt delvelish brothers. Y me?

I had no other option: death OR an unforgiving, bright orange speedo suit. Unsurprisingly, I choose the latter.I'll take death by embarrassment over literal homo/suicide any day.

When I arrived however, death by admiration seemed the sole measure of fatality. I was floored with praise characterizing my visage as "illuminating", my skin was not bacne laden but "gorgeous", and that "orange was most definitely my color".  To this day I'll never know whether those soccer moms were being sincere or just bullshitting me, but nevertheless, I listened. Today, a whopping 11% of my closet is dedicated to all things anaranjado. Jumpsuits, crop tops, granny panties; you name it, it likely fluoresces in an orange hue.

Thrifted top and pencil skirt, Steve Madden coat and boots.

Moral of the story, find your color. Wear it everyday. Wear it all together. Never underestimate the power of single-color blocking. Forget the haters. Waterbugs.