It’s not my color.
I made my own dress for my 8th grade graduation. Loved the fabric–a flowing, soft yellow and pink floral print and I was totally in love with the pattern for the dress. I worked hard on that dress–carefully, painstakingly. It was as perfect as I could make a dress. I couldn’t wait to wear it.
When I finally put it on, I was so disappointed. Something was off. Couldn’t put a finger on exactly what, though.
This was to become a theme throughout my life, but that’s another story.
Much later I came to learn it was likely because I can’t wear yellow. Or cream. Or brown with a yellow base. When I do, people inevitably ask me if I’m sick or tired.
So for a long time I thought I didn’t like yellow. But that was wrong, too. I love yellow, just not on me.