Agent Orange

They say that more men are colour blind than women, but in the North of England at least, there seem to be a lot of ladies who don’t know the difference between brown and orange. You know who I’m talking about. You’ve seen them strutting around, smeared from hair-line to toenail in a streaky paste the colour of a chemical fire.

They do know they’re the wrong colour right? I’d hate to think they’re labouring under the misapprehension that when we see them in that iridescent shade we’re asking “ohhh, has she been somewhere exotic?” We’re asking questions alright, but more along the lines of “has she been basted in FANTA?” “Is she half orangutan?” “Is she aware just how visually offensive she is right now?”

The weird thing is, that shade of orange isn’t even a naturally attractive colour, it’s the shade of nuclear armageddon. The only naturally occurring animals in that colour are poisonous snakes and frogs, things that are to be avoided. Orange is Mother Nature’s way of saying FUCK OFF!

I’m a pale man, so I can understand the desire for colour, but PICK A DIFFERENT COLOUR! It doesn’t even have to be conventional. The number of fan-based, erotic fiction websites surrounding both Avatar’s Na’vi and the smurfs indicate that blue is no barrier to sexual attraction. And I doubt that anyone who saw the dancing girl in Jabba’s palace could claim that green can’t be a sexy colour.

Of course, this entire argument is based on the premise that their skin tone is the direct result of deliberate actions that those women have taken. I guess it’s possible that this isn’t their fault. Maybe they’re all the unwilling participants in the experiment of a misguided geneticist, who is seeking to reduce pedestrian fatalities in the North of England by breeding a race of fluorescent women who are naturally hi-vis.

Come to think of it, not a bad idea.

One thought on “Agent Orange”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.