June 2nd, 2008
Years ago I wrote a short poem that ended, “a fabulous shade of puce.” I can’t find the poem, but it began, “I love it when life works” some unrequited reminiscing over a particular Canadian ballet dancer. Puce, 1787, from Fr. puce “flea,” It is the color of a flea. Perhaps more so the color of a smashed flea. I love the names of colors. Farrow & Ball named theirs, Passage Puce, after a David Hicks done staircase at Barons Court. Above, a short movie by Kenneth Anger, Puce Moment (1949).