Pastels Spring Forward

Pastels Spring Forward

Winter in Syracuse. An experience that could push any human being to his limits, certainly mentally! When we moved our family from London to Syracuse last Autumn, we had been warned. But those warnings were quickly followed by glorious tales of how our kids would learn a wide array of winter sports, how skiing would become religion and how family life here is unbeatable.

But nothing prepared me. It would be impossible to underestimate the sheer load of snow that we disbelievingly watched fall. Nor the daily shock of the loss of feeling in our extremities every time we left home. True, this town is unbelievably prepped to manage the most freezing and snowy of weather. From the snow shoveler that would come at midnight to clear the drive, all the way to the schools communication by voice message at 5am to announce a “snow-day” for the kids. The contrast to London is stark. In London, an inch of snow sends everyone into panic, the public transport system grinds to a halt and even the economy suffers as millions of people don’t make it to work!

In the beginning months we reveled in the beauty of our surroundings, it felt as though we’d stumbled into a winter wonderland postcard. It was the most beautiful winter I have ever seen; all puffs of clean snow and crisp air. And the thrill of a new wardrobe. That excitement when you start focusing on the sharper looks of winter, the greys, the navys, the boots, the winter coat, the accessories. Out go the brightly coloured sandals and frothy dresses. Out go the blond highlights and the neon nail polish! We are free to streamline in both silhouette and colour, at least for a few months hiatus. Might even allow myself that extra bagel now that no one sees my arms!

Thanksgiving came and went, so did New Years and we were rapidly hurtling towards Valentine’s Day. And I had had enough. I didn’t know one could get enough of a beautiful thing! But clearly one could. I felt like I was living in Narnia. The monochrome environment was harsh with temperatures that were laughable. But within this black and white movie that I was living, my craving for color manifested itself in pops of brightness in both mine and the kids wardrobes! Flashes of purples, royal blues, animal prints, bright greens. Nail polish would move away from blacks and greys to the entire spectrum of reds – all in defiance of this crazy polar vortex type weather!

But now as we start to believe that spring actually does follow winter and we dare to start shedding layers, I am surprised, almost confused by the introduction of pastels into the latest palette. The mint greens and the cotton candy pinks seem frivolous, almost childish. And then one puts on the powder blue scarf or the peach colored nail polish. Then one gets it! Pastels are calm, serene, you even start breathing slower! “Pastels are so forgiving” according to artist Gaye Adams – maybe that’s what pastels do. That’s their job. Along with heralding the new season, one of relief and hope, they smooth our transition from crippling winter to light, bubbly, sunny spring. Pastel colours allow us to forgive the bleakness of winter and shepherd us into the warmth of the next season. They fool us into forgetting; part of the process that makes us do it all again next year!

One would think that after winters saturation of colour, we would feel the need for bright, vibrant shades. But no, that would be too brash, too shocking to our systems. Pastels are the metaphors for us coming out of hibernation, like the wildlife around us, blinking our eyes open at the bright new world. Pastels help us transition from one state to another in a tranquil (and let’s not forget pretty) way.

Everyone I meet tells me this winter has been unusual, unprecedented, unheard of. But it happened and we survived to tell the tale. In London one takes colour for granted as one is surrounded by it, everywhere, always. Often tones are muted in the drizzle but still there is no shortage of luminosity. Bright oranges and poppy reds are more at home in London than lavender. But London has never had to suffer an Upstate New York winter!

So Syracuse, you gave me your best and I’m still standing – now shower me in your sherbet spring rainbows.

Anick Sinclair

Guest Writer