I don’t have special colors. Insisting that things be your favorite color is the way five-year-olds express their individuality in households in which they are expected to adopt their parents’ beliefs in politics, religion, and everything else that’s important. “Oh, how adorable — little Billy likes things that are red! And trucks! And dolphins!” That’s cool, as long as he doesn’t like pink, or socialism, or getting the hell out of his small Texas town to pursue a career as a drag performer. (“Well, he always did like dolphins. We should have recognized the signs.”)
What I’m saying is that there are a lot of nice colors out there. Black and orange? Bad colors even for a Halloween party. But pink? Lilac? Any shade of blue or aqua? Taupe? Celery? Grass? Peach? Coral? Yellow? THEY’RE ALL NICE.
I tried to find some kind of one-stop wedding palace where they would just “make it look like a wedding” so I don’t have to make any decisions. Please never say the word “centerpiece” to me.