Yellow: The Colour of Unapologetic Optimism — A Sartorial Rebellion Against the Grey
A grey city. A yellow tie. A quiet act of rebellion. In a world that celebrates silence and sameness, colour becomes philosophy. This is a story about what happens when you refuse to dim your light — and wear it instead.
It started with a look — not mine, but theirs.
A stranger’s quick double-take as I stepped into the grey morning, suit tailored to order, tie blazing like a small rebellion. Yellow. Not mustard, not pale butter — yellow, alive and unapologetic. The city was still half asleep. People moved like ghosts in graphite coats, eyes glued to their own screens of small distractions. And there I was, cutting through the monotony like a sunbeam that forgot its cue.
Someone smirked, another raised a brow. I caught a reflection in the glass — even I wasn’t sure if I was too much or just enough.
But that’s the thing about colour — it asks questions that silence can’t.
What am I afraid of?Why should I shrink? Why is brightness considered arrogance, when dullness is celebrated as humility? As I walked, I thought about how yellow once meant danger, enlightenment, deceit, and divinity — all depending on who you asked.
It has always been a colour of tension, of things that dare to be noticed.
Today, it felt like armour. Not against others, but against the grey tide of indifference.
A man passed me by — older, elegant, the kind who’s lived long enough to recognise defiance when he sees it. He nodded. A small, wordless acknowledgment: stay luminous. That nod lingered longer than the stares. Maybe that’s what yellow really is — a quiet act of optimism in a world that keeps confusing dullness for depth. It’s not screaming; it’s surviving. It’s remembering that joy can still be deliberate. That colour — like character — must be chosen daily.
So I kept walking.
And as the day unfolded, the city didn’t seem so grey anymore.
Maybe it was the light.Or maybe, it was just the tie.
