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It's All-White, Weally

By SHELL SHERREE

I'm back onto the painting mission. The weather is mostly fine so that excuse hopped on a bus. Now, I'm on the quest for the perfect shade of white. That's right. White. As if life isn't complicated enough, paint manufacturers have been progressively getting in touch with their feminine sides, providing more choices of white than you can shake an increasingly crabby paint brush at. If I don't find the right colour soon, I'm worried that the lyrics to A Whiter Shade of Pale just might start making sense to me.

Hm, how to choose. I found myself gravitating towards the edible or clever names. Having used this scientific method to select Melbourne Cup winners, it seemed only natural to employ it here.

Tell me I'm not alone. Surely no woman could easily pass up White Truffle, Meringue Cloud or Candied Almond without indulging in a sample pot at the very least? I gave Princess Bling a try but alas, the way the light bounced off it in our foyer, the result was more Chandler Bling. (Funny and nowhere near as sexy.)

After much testing, I had to turn to the ho-hum sounding ones. Spanish White? Too earthy for me. Barrister White? Not pure as the driven snow. (An unfortunate coincidence, I'm sure.) Imagine my disappointment to discover that Peplum Quarter could be just right. Wheeeeee. Something named after a bit of fabric sewn onto a jacket. Remind me not to tell my walls what colour they are wearing.

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