Let me feel the fibre of your fabric

We are embroiled in the great uniform debate at work. We need one. Some feel that the current one is tired and are pressing for a new tunic to wear over our day clothes. Everyone has a different opinion on style, fabric, cut and colour. As long as we haven't got to iron it and it's not yellow, I don't really care - I am not one of the few people on this planet who can wear yellow well.

We have been sent many fabric swatches in various hues of red, pink, green, grey, blue, and brown. Except they are not called by those names. Reds are chianti, havana, bullseye and ferrari. Pinks and purples range from pout and bouquet to eggplant and nightshade. Fossil, cloud, quill, homespun and mouse are shades of grey and green and all in between (apparently). Blues include splash, horizon and stormtrooper, while browns have a wide variety of hues from marmite and cigar to any number of rodents such as otter, mink and (my favourite) Mr rat.

As I mentioned a few posts ago, my friend and I used to read a lot of magazines when we were kids. From this she envisaged her dream job: inventing the names of cosmetics. I often think of that when I pick up a lipstick or eyeshadow - there is a lot of marketing involved in the name. I once bought a very expensive lipstick because it was called British Red. I love the colour for roses or post boxes but it is a bit bold for me and I have only worn it once, when I went to a Ceroc party. I currently have Porcelain Pink and Mauve Diamonds in my handbag.

You may think that you could just keep things simple by naming the primary colours and extremes of the spectrum. However, there are pitfalls here too. I was once looking at a clothing catalogue and spotted a hooded top advertised - the picture showed one girl wearing a black top and another sporting the grey version. A small caption proudly pronounced, 'also available in shite'. Is that a shade of brown then?