I have a box on my book shelf. A handwoven bamboo box; in it, twenty seven colours. Nail polishes. I’ve collected them for years. I’ve always loved doing my nails, and I’ve never been to a manicurist in my life. It gives me great pleasure to do my own nails. I have brushes too, because sometimes I like drawing things also, mostly flowers. Back in the day I used toothpicks, so that I’d get the lines as thin and precise as needed to make my flowers beautiful.
Doing my nails is art for me, it’s joy and pleasure, creativity, inspiration, and I get to experience myself in new ways. Sometimes I am golden bronze, sometimes I am silvery moonlight with a pinkish hue. The nail polishes all have their own names. I am silk is…, triple thread, watermelon, cascade cool, eternal optimist, lilacism, find me an oasis. In Greece I was ballet slippers, Italy was all shades of Poseidon blues and seas and passion reds, and in the South of France I was in a blush walking romance.
Today I am traveling light, because we’ll talk about the colour purple. We’ll travel the pages of my O. Henry book of short stories and go into the world of The Purple Dress. Originally published in 1907, it is one of my favourite short stories of his; it’s about more than a dress, more than colour, because this royal colour holds the heart of a woman, a heart full of generosity, joy and love. Shining with her kindness, it is a royal heart indeed.
The Purple Dress tells the story of two young women Maida and Grace; both are friends, neighbours, and also work together as clerks in the same store. They have been saving money all year to buy new dresses for the annual Thanksgiving gala dinner given by their employer. Both of them are actually hoping to catch the attention of the handsome Mr. Ramsay, a manager of the store and eligible bachelor, because they both really like him.
The story begins with an important sentence,
“We are here to consider the shade known as purple.” And throughout the story we see the shades of kindness that make humanity sparkle in true light.
Grace decides to have a red dress made for her, because “you see more red on Fifth avenue. And the men all seem to like it.”
Maida, on the other hand, isn’t particularly interested in what’s in fashion nor what the men like – she wants a purple dress – a tailor made purple dress!
“You think Mr. Ramsay likes purple.” said Grace, “I heard him say yesterday he thought some of the dark shades of red were stunning.”
“I don’t care,” said Maida. “I prefer purple, and them that don’t like it can just take the other side of the street.”
Maida had been saving all year to finally have $18, which she had perfectly calculated to have for her rent ahead and to pay the tailor. When she came home that day though, Grace knocked on her doors in tears; the landlord had told Grace that she’ll be kicked out if she doesn’t pay right away, and she already paid for her red dress, so now she doesn’t have money for her rent.
Maida’s kind heart was too kind and open not to help her darling friend in need, so she gave her the money she had saved for her purple dress, without saying a word. Evening came, and Grace showed at Maida’s door in her red dress ready to go, “Why haven’t you dressed yet?” Maida said that her dress just wasn’t done in time, so she won’t go. “I was set on my purple,” said Maida. “Don’t bother about me.” said Maida, “Run along or you’ll be late. You look awful nice in red.”
At her window Maida sat through the long morning and past the time of the dinner at the store. Though she did not even want to go out, because she was so sad, she knew she had to make her way to her tailor to tell him she wouldn’t be able to pay for her purple dress.
But when she went to him, knowing how kind she was and how diligent and responsible always, without hesitation he gave her the dress and urged her not to worry at all about the payment, “You will pay me some time when you can.”
Ah, Maida’s face brightened! And how perfect the purple dress looked on her, how beautiful! She breathed in a million thanks in her heart and hurried away with her dress. As she left the shop a smart dash of rain struck upon her face. She smiled and did not feel it.
The rain came pouring more and more, heavier and heavier; Maida did not care! People with rain coats and umbrellas turned their heads to marvel at this beautiful, serene, happy-eyed girl in the purple dress walking through the storm as though she were strolling in a garden under summer skies.
“Ladies who shop in carriages and have varied wardrobes cannot understand this. They do not know what it is to live with a perpetual longing for pretty things–to starve eight months in order to bring a purple dress and a holiday together. What difference if it rained, hailed, blew, snowed, cycloned?
Maida had no umbrella nor overshoes. She had her purple dress and she walked abroad. Let the elements do their worst. A starved heart must have one crumb during a year. The rain ran down and dripped from her fingers.
Some one turned a corner and blocked her way. She looked up into Mr. Ramsay’s eyes, sparkling with admiration and interest.
“Why, Miss Maida,” said he, “you look simply magnificent in your new dress. I was greatly disappointed not to see you at our dinner. And of all the girls I ever knew, you show the greatest sense and intelligence. There is nothing more healthful and invigorating than braving the weather as you are doing. May I walk with you?”
And Maida blushed and sneezed.”
There are so many beautiful things about this story that I love. I love that Maida has a free spirit and never chose a colour nor dress based on other people opinions, she is just being her true self. I love how her kindness and generosity of spirit shines, and her selflessness – because this is not merely a love story, it is a story reminding us of our humanity and being there for one another in need whenever we can.
I love that she dances in the rain, because when you’ve so dearly worked for something to have it, and dreamed of it, and saved for it, you should absolutely rejoice in it and be happy! To some this may only be a dress, and those some do not understand, as O. Henry writes. But for those who do understand, you know. You know the feeling and the joy – and you know it’s not just a dress, it is something you didn’t think you’d have but believed in it and worked for it.
It’s something that you treasure and are deeply grateful for, and it doesn’t matter what the weather is outside. I remember how I saved for years to travel overseas only to spend five days by the sea in the place where I wanted; and finally when I did I remember one of the days it was raining, there was a big storm, big waves – so I just went swimming in the rain. No weather was going to stop me, because I had been saving for this, waiting for this, and I actually had one of my most memorable times that afternoon. The sea was all mine. And I tell you, it’s quite magical swimming in the rain. It’s freedom. Just as walking barefoot is, just as all that fulfills your heart with childlike joy is. The rest is just self adornment, to make things more playful and creative; but it all goes deeper than the fabrics and colours, because there are stories that live woven with the threads: stories of dreams, stories of faith, stories of trust, stories of love.
I love that we see very clearly that Mr. Ramsay longed for Maida all along – she was the one he waited for and wanted to see at the dinner – she is the one he loves. Not because of her dress nor the colour of it, but because of who she is – her great sense and intelligence – and because there is nothing more healthful and invigorating that braving the weather as she does.
Her beautiful free spirit, kind heart, joy and generosity shine through, shine brighter than all sparkles in the world; and this is what makes the royal heart. Such a heart has the power of uplifting people, raising them and inspiring them. It uplifts people’s humanity consciousness and serves to inspire us into the hope that kindness does matter. Through Maida, Grace knows the power of true friendship; and the tailor too feels more connected to the spirit of goodness in humanity – he knows there are good people whom he can trust, who are responsible and honest, and whose works of art they were with joy and gratitude, so he sees his dresses come alive in magical ways.
And it’s Maida mere presence along the streets that is inspiring also; people with their raincoats and umbrellas pause to turn to look at the happy-eyed girl. If nothing else, she will be a story they tell for the rest of their day or even week; and for others, this image of her will stay somewhere within them, and perhaps one day they too will dance in the rain and enjoy it with full hearts and happy eyes.
This story also reminds us that we should treasure the virtues especially in a world where they often seem like they are disappearing. No matter our backgrounds and economic situations we should remain good human beings, and nurture the flame of goodness and hope that burn in our hearts and spirits. In an age where people yearn for only the material and can often be too selfish, false or robotic, it is important to remember and nourish our humanity and belive in the goodness of love – because there is nothing more powerful than the purity of our heart.
For more of my writings, browse through my Art of Love.
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