There exists an urban legend around home repair stores across America which runs as follows: “An executive for a paint company received complaints from workers in a blue office that the office was too cold. So the executive did a little redecorating, and when the offices were painted a warm peach, the sweaters came off even though the temperature had not changed.”

This story, in and of itself, is not so difficult to believe. The concept of color psychology has existed for centuries, millennia even. Purple and gold have always connoted royalty in ancient Egypt and the Western world. The Romans used red to signify battle and valor; to the Greeks, green was the color of victory. In China, white symbolizes mourning, yet in Iran, the color of mourning is blue. The list goes on.

As a visual people, color affects our moods and temperance. We know that red means “stop” and often signals danger, while yellow slows us down and green lets us peacefully pass. There is a reason that dentists’ offices are always painted in soothing pastel colors rather than a bloody crimson or a neon orange. (It is hard enough to get people to go there anyway, without sending their nervous systems into paralytic terror by way of the optic nerve.)

I was recently lucky enough to spend a week in Florida over spring break, and Florida, my friends, is nothing if not colorful. The swimming pools are a clear turquoise, the foliage strongly resembles Joseph’s Dream Coat and the frozen drinks are hot, hot pink (or sometimes green). I would not bat an eyelash if I were told that Floridian babies are born wearing Juicy Couture outfits. Preferably terry cloth; preferably matching; preferably fuchsia. Or magenta. Or aqua. Even the people themselves are quite colorful; I have never seen quite so much orange skin concentrated in one area.

As my excitement mounted in the weeks leading up to this vacation, I eagerly began to plan out my spring break wardrobe in my head, contemplating if any shopping needed to take place (the answer to this question is always “yes”), and finally, as I stood triumphantly over my suitcase, hours before my flight was to take off, I gazed lovingly down into its contents and experienced a small mid-mid-life crisis.

Navy blue bikini. White bikini. White shorts. Navy blue sweater. Navy blue sundress. Navy blue and white striped sundress.

I realized that my entire closet, give or take seven items, is composed entirely of varying shades of dark blue, grey, black and white.

Both astounded and slightly horrified, I quickly found a “color personality” quiz on the Internet, which, after asking me to click on several differently hued boxes in the order they “pleased me,” informed me that I “delight in the tasteful, the gracious and the sensitive, but maintain an attitude of critical appraisal and refuse to be swept off my feet.” I “therefore keep a strict and watchful control on my emotional relationships as I must know exactly where I stand.”

So there it was: My entire life spelled out for me because of my apparent obsession with navy blue. Forget the “nature versus nurture” argument; turns out it’s couture that shapes your character.

I wonder how much our color choices really can say about us — do we select our clothing based on our self-conceived image? I appear to have developed some type of mental block against bright colors, as if my eyes simply pass over them while shopping and zero in on the monochrome. But I do not consider myself to be serious, or boring, or morbid or apathetic — all traits associated with my palette preferences.

I suppose I could change up my wardrobe. Perhaps I would make a different impression on people; I might appear more upbeat or cheerful or interesting. For the meantime, however, as my suitcase still emanates the heady scent of sunscreen and hibiscus, I would like instead to borrow the eloquent words of Prince: “What’s your color? Make it love. What’s your color? Mine is love.”

Caroline Smith is a sophomore in the college. She can be reached at smith@thehoya.com. The Hoya Wears Prada appears every other Friday in The Guide.