The Milliner

Few can say they’ve worked for a milliner;

It is a little-known and unsung art.

Thoughts of mere warehousing or similar

Were my feelings about it at the start,

When I – just a student down on his luck –

Sought employment at the repository,

Prepared to do anything for a buck

But so unfamiliar with millinery.

Imagine my surprise when I was told

There were eighty-four ‘colours’ to absorb:

Not just as distinct as Silver and Gold

But as obscure as Oyster and Airforce.

It was rarely a simple ‘red’ or ‘blue’

And became a source of fascination;

A colour’s uniqueness lay in its hue

And in its lightness and saturation.

And I didn’t just have to learn its name

Or its colour code – now, they were a breeze –

But a swatch in a little cardboard frame

Would be waved at me, and I’d say, ‘Cerise!’

So pour out a Claret or Burgundy –

Or, if you need, a shot of Espresso –

As I talk about life in millinery

And list all the colours I had to know.

.

It took a little while to make them stick,

But soon they were all installed in my head:

The first rubicund shade was that of Brick

(Albeit not the most vibrant of reds)

While a favourite of mine was Mulberry.

The ruddy set was rounded off by Rouge:

Staple of the cosmetics industry

But, with Poppy, quite easily confused.

At least, that’s how one may have felt at first,

But – despite what you may already think –

They were far removed from being the worst,

‘Cause I’ve not even started on the pinks!

.

It was not rare to at first be amazed

At how many of them there were, in all:

The reds evolved into a shade called Grape

(Which had a purplish tint if I recall);

Then there came both Flamingo and Fuchsia,

Which could sometimes be a challenge to split.

The aim was to discern the minutiae –

Provided that section was amply lit.

From Florescent Pink, which stood out much starker,

Through both Blossom and (sorry) Girly Pink

To Damson, which was a fair bit darker,

There was always one more than you would think.

It was hard to twig any absent names;

Including Candy, Rose and Bubblegum,

They ran the gamut of possible shades –

Except for ‘magenta’, which wasn’t one!

By the time you reached the next colour group,

You thought to yourself that you’d seen it all:

Wisteria – a plant with Eastern roots

And often found climbing upon the walls –

Gave its name to one of the floral hues,

While Lilac and Lavender did the same.

Mauve and Violet rounded off the slew

With Purple – a rare case of common name.

.

Sapphire and Navy were best-selling blues,

While Indigo was my own favoured shade;

Bluebell and Azure were top choices, too,

And Winter Teal a smart choice for display.

After Duck Egg and Mallard, signs of green

Started emerging in this range of tints,

And there were even colours in between;

Aqua, for one, possessed some greenish hints.

Emerald was the deepest green we held.

Such a close pair were Dark Olive and Sage,

But one could see Lime stood out by itself

And spot Florescent Green a mile away.

.

Among more of the colours that I knew

There was plain Yellow as a simple case,

But also Nude – that was a colour, too –

Beside which Metallic Gold took its place.

Metallic Nude kept that sparkle alive

And, indeed, was quite a popular pick;

Margarita (less easy on the eye)

And Pistachio rounded off that bit.

Next to Orange you would find Tangerine

While Coral blended their border with red

And Salmon provided a pinkish sheen.

Next up is the most confusing bit yet,

As I name for you the rest of the browns –

Including colours such as Taupe and Bronze –

Which frequently occupied common ground

And, at times, garnered a stressed-out response.

It was hard to discern Latte from Blush;

Often did I fail to tell them apart

In colour tests (chiefly when in a rush) –

And trust me, I am only at the start!

For up till now, there have been omissions:

A bank of colours I have kept away.

Now, I bring them into this discussion,

To show how many of them overlaid.

.

For instance, there was Almond and Pale Gold:

With such close neighbours, mistakes will be made.

The question ‘Bazaar or Dusk?’ soon grew old

And good eyes were needed for Teal and Jade.

Raspberry and Razzmatazz looked the same

(Would that they were more like Pewter and Slate);

Ice Blue and Peppermint were just a pain –

Impossible to differentiate!

Quartz and off-White colours (Ivory, Mist)

Sometimes gave cause to be taken aback,

And as I steadily exhaust my list,

I note there was no such issue with Black!

.

Added to this, I gained, after a year,

Seventeen(!) new colours to learn apace

On top of those that were already there –

Which, to begin with, would not be displaced.

Coffee came in to supplant Tobacco

While Otter was to be replaced by Mink;

Another light brown shade was Cameo

While Orchid was our newest tint of pink.

There had been much Metallic Navy talk;

Twilight was a much-hyped dark shade of blue.

The colour Champagne was quite close to Chalk

And went right next to it on the shelf, too!

Lagoon edged in near Peacock and Turquoise

While Fern was the new version of Spring Green.

Metallic Peppermint was a surprise

But Mercury was much like what we’d seen.

Metallic Quartz looked like Metallic White;

Powder Blue was yet another pale blue.

Blackcurrant was a welcome new delight,

While Periwinkle would join our ranks, too.

Lemon would take the place of tired old Corn

And Sweet Lavender’s elder was deposed.

Here, I note my Graphite is getting worn

And my list needs to be drawn to a close.

.

I am sure there would have been more colours

To learn, had I lingered in that bubble,

And, as I did with all of the others,

I would have learnt them with little trouble.

But it was when September rolled around

In the year of two-thousand and twenty –

When much had changed in all our surrounds

And in the past were the years of plenty –

That I found my employment had to cease

And I would join much of society.

Like Antique Bronze, I became obsolete:

The only option was redundancy.

But even now, when all I have are words

And life has lost almost all of its pace,

I think on one of the first things I heard

Upon crossing the threshold of that place:

That I would one day look upon posters

And at once know the hues of their aspects,

For a hundred tones knows the milliner.

It was a prediction that proved correct.

It’s because I have worked in millinery,

That I carry a lasting legacy:

I no longer see just red, blue or green –

But every shade thereof, and in between.