A LITTLE COLOUR PLEASE!: Once upon a time, buying a carpet meant choosing from rolls of colourful shades. Last week we were told that people now go for beige or grey, and that’s that, and indeed it seemed so, because apart from a few colours hidden deep amongst the samples all carpets were grey or beige. It saddened me, I must say that colour is to be excluded, and our preferences cloned to embrace only the shades of a sandy beach, or a moody sky. I felt like a ‘Stepford wife’, following the crowd. Are we all to wave goodbye to the rich tapestry of colour that lurks in our soul? I love red, the colour of poppies. I imagine bright red cooking pots decorating some cavernous Mexican cantina [swarthy Mexicans drinking tequila] Someone told me once that the colour red is conducive to eating, so much of my kitchen is unfashionably red. I love blue [although blue can be cold], but not if mixed to accommodate different blues, Forget -me-not blue and the ever-changing blues of the sea. Yellow is my favourite the colour of the sun, and primroses, and those tiny ladies slippers that form a group in the grass [safety in numbers] Then green. Look at the shades of green the good Lord created for us to wonder at. His imagination was boundless, his open- mindedness, and intrinsic eye for colour something which has intrigued and astounded since the world began. All that uninhibited foliage, the green background that allows every other colour to shine. Orange now, the colour of flame [very popular in the sixties and seventies] I loved it then, but for the purpose of furnishings familiarity has bred contempt. I love gold [the Midas touch] Purple too, the colour of plums and damsons and vicar’s robes. I felt a little downcast when I came out of the carpet shop. Who are these people who love only beige?