Twilight and Tomato
As the Connecticut dusk rolled over Skiff Mountain down toward Kent’s lovely Housatonic River, I sat with my old friend Samuel Clemens, better known as Mark Twain. The old man and I sat on the grand veranda of the Golden Flacon Inn, reminiscing the high points of our glorious day spent fishing. “I still can’t believe it, Robert,” he exclaimed, “how did you manage to hook twice the number of trout that I did today?” “What can I say, Sam,” I answered in jest. “I guess I’m just better at reeling them in-“ We shared a good laugh at the camaraderie the day had brought, but I stopped quite abruptly when I noticed the most devastatingly attractive woman I’d ever laid eyes on- one helluva hot tomato to be sure- and aptly, wearing a vermillion colored dress. As the evening blue enveloped this ripe young thing, I couldn’t help but notice that the combination of the twilight and the tomato was truly stunning. “I say Robert,” said Clemens, “I do believe that beautiful woman recognizes me- she’s looking right this way.” However, as she approached us, it proved Old Sam was not the focus of her compelling gaze after all. “Excuse me sir,” this delectable damsel addressed me, the words cascading elegantly off her tongue, “but wherever did you get that beautiful blue shirt- why, it’s the color of evening- of this very twilight. I must get one for my father.” Could she have given a more appropriate compliment? Asked a more apt question? And I knew, fom that very moment, this Lady was at once as bold as a tomato and as demure as the twilight- two colors that legends are made of. Was it possible that this divine creature would become my Lady Redd?
Twilight and Salmon
Though I’d never spent a day fishing with “The Old Man and The Sea”, I’d come to count on Hemingway and my annual fishing trips either at his home, Windemere on Walloon Lake or at my family fishing lodge, also located in Michigan. Each summer, my fishing excursion with Ernest allowed me a much needed, calming refuge after the year’s adventures. On a “Big, Two Hearted River,” Ernest and I set up camp on the north bank and started an inviting fire on which to cook our salmon, freshly caught on a fly, of course. I stirred a handful of fragrant espresso beans into a large pot over the fire and then scooped out hot spoonfuls of coffee into our small, tin cups. As billows of smoke twisted out of the dark, steaming drink, my thoughts turned to Lady Redd. I asked Hemingway what he thought about love and he it was a hard thing to express in words. Taken aback, I asked him how a man with his literary acumen could ever find difficulty in self-expression. He smiled and sighed and murmured that the salmon was ready. As we sat in the twilight, alone with our thoughts and our delicious salmon, I thought how lucky I was to have found my better half in Lady Redd, a combination as perfect as the colors of this moment.
Twilight and Maize
On a bitterly cold February evening in 1913, I arrived in Saint Petersburg, having promised my friend Nick Romanov I’d stop by with my Lady Redd. My Lady was dying to meet Alexandra, and I hadn’t seen Nick since Japan back in 1890. “Nicholas- so wonderful to see you,” we exchanged warm handshakes. I took this opportunity to tease my good friend about his official title “So, Nicholas, ‘Emperor and Autocrat of all the Russias’ now, aren’t you? How impressive- I had no idea there was more than one.” “Ah Robert,” he answered with a grin, “it eez good to know zat you haff not lost zat charming vit.” He turned and paused before Lady Redd, “My Vady,” he addressed her, “do you know zat I owe my life to your Robert, zis vonderful man?” Despite my protests, Nick insisted on recounting my “unparalleled heroism,” as he put it. After a few short months in Japan, Nicholas explained, an enraged fanatic attempted to murder him- and nearly succeeded- had I not alerted cousin George, who promptly blocked the zealot’s sword with his cane. “Oh my,” Lady Redd swooned, as the becoming twilight enveloped her freezing face, “I had no idea you were so heroic.” The story finally over, Nicholas beckoned us into the palace- glowing warm and yellow-gold. Against the blue Russian twilight, the maize colored entranceway seemed so inviting- I decided the contrast in color was as striking as that of the temperature- A combination as ideal as Lady Redd and myself.
Twilight and Highland Green
“Oh Robert,” beckoned the new Lady Redd in a seductively playful voice, “would you like to take a walk with me in the twilight?” It was the first stop on our honeymoon: the Scottish Highlands to the east of the Isle of Sky, the Kyle of Lochalsh and Plockton: the land of my forefathers. Amidst the charming backdrop of tumbling green hills and Munros, I knew something- or rather- someones- would be tumbling soon as well. “Absolutely, darling.” I answered, preparing myself for a little newlywed fun, “a walk is just the thing-“ but as I took to the outdoors, I was stunned to stillness. Lady Redd’s sultry silhouette was surrounded by the most glorious highland green scenery- and perfectly exaggerated by the blue of twilight’s setting sun. “Just as the day I’d met her,” thought I, “the same twilight- mixed with the highland green of our honeymoon’s beginning- the most positively romantic combination,” It was not until later, when we were nearly discovered in the bushes near Duncraig Castle, that I realized my assessment had proven most correct.
Lilac and Kelly
On a brisk, spring day in Scotland, I found myself once again playing the Kelly green Old Course at Saint Andrews, this time with my wild friend and partner in crime, Walter Hagen. Having celebrated until far past our bedtime the evening before, we took the course at a rather leisurely pace, boasting all the while of times when we’d tested the boundaries of social tact. Walter had me keeled over with laughter as he described the time he was refused entrance to a clubhouse dressing room because of his status as a professional golfer. Not to be deterred for a moment, Hagen instead hired a Rolls Royce to serve as a dressing room. “You’re only here for a short visit, Robert,” he rationalized, using his favorite creed. “Don’t hurry. Don’t worry. And be sure to smell the flowers along the way.” At his mention of flowers, I became suddenly aware of a nearby lilac bush, lining the course’s dramatic double greens. My waning stamina was instantly rejuvenated by the lively and refreshing color combination. I turned to tell Walter how brilliant he’d been to point it out, but my spirited friend had already launched into a story of another hilarious escapade.
Salmon and White
Michigan, 1921. The Big Two-Hearted River is deep and cold and Hemingway and I are trying our best to stay still and focused. The sky is white and the salmon are pink and ready to be caught and I want to catch them and so does he. They do not particularly want to be caught. “Anything?” I ask Ernest and wade in a little farther. “Not yet.” It was then I felt a tug on my own line and I pulled but the pink fish was strong so I pulled harder and harder until finally it gave way and I caught it. After the battle it lay flopping in the grass trying to die and then it died. Holding it up and examining it I noticed: “the pink salmon is beautiful against the white sky,” and Hemingway thought so too. Two colors as sleek and clean as the ever so popular minimalist style.
Kelly and White
Lady Redd and I had devoted the afternoon to teeing up with James Braid at the Old Course at Saint Andrews. The next day, James was competing for what would become his fifth Open Championship win. “Lit’s see what yuv got, Robert,” James playfully jeered. “The final hole separates the men from the boy-es.” James followed his taunt with a very impressive drive, the ball landing only feet from the eighteenth hole. “That’s what you tell me,” I replied in an attempt at diplomacy. As I delicately placed my ball on the tee, I couldn’t help but notice how lovely was the combination of the little white ball and the perfectly groomed green- an inspiring sight, indeed. “My lady,” I beckoned to my Lady Redd, “why don’t you finish this hole, darling?” “Oh, Robert, I couldn’t!” Lady Redd replied, seemingly the picture of propriety. And yet, as she spoke the words, I saw her lithe figure dart to my caddy- “Well,” she said softly as she drew out a club, “I guess I could try.” Similarly inspired by the beauty of the white ball against the Kelly green course, she swung her club rather vigorously. As I turned to chuckle at her alacrity, I was interrupted by the booming Scotsman- “Why Leady Reyd! I doo believe yuv made a hole-in-one!” “So I have,” my lady replied, beaming with pride at our joint success. Similarly pleased, I thought to myself, “With the help of that glorious combination of colors, I do believe we have indeed.”
Blue and White
Beneath a rare, azure London sky, I took to Hyde Park on a pleasant afternoon in 1925 joining Winston Churchill in a game of croquet. The lush grass beckoned me to toss my shoes aside, to scrunch the soft blades between my toes, yet I managed to maintain a sense of propriety. With my croquet mallet in hand and Winnie Churchill at my left shoulder, I eyed my next shot carefully. “Do not falter, my dear Robert,” Winnie teased, “you dare not ruin your winning streak!” He let out a boisterous laugh. I held my tongue, realizing that Winston, more than anyone, would appreciate my diplomacy. Rather than fire a return remark, I focused my attention on aligning the ball. Fortunately, I did not have to defend myself vocally for my perfect shot was retort enough. At that moment, as my eyes followed the ball running through several wickets, I realized how terribly distinguished our crisp, white attire looked against the glorious, blue sky. “Quite the combination,” I mentioned—and Winnie agreed, eager to divert the conversation from my victory at hand.
Virginia Blue Sky and Robin's Egg
In keeping with our family tradition, the Redds and the Wilsons enjoyed another festive, Easter Sunday together in the heart of Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains. I was actively engaged in hiding the eggs for the children’s hunt with dear old Woodrow Wilson. We had nearly finished and were deliberating over the hiding places of only a few more eggs. “Where should I put this green one, Robert?” Woody asked. “It blends so well with the boxwood. I am afraid the children won’t find it—and it would be quite the mess for the poor gardener if it is not discovered ‘til summer.” He had a point, though it might also be rather humorous. “Perhaps up on the stone wall, for some contrast,” I suggested, taking the egg. However, as I took a step toward the chosen location, I slipped—landed clumsily on my back with a solid ‘thud!’ Looking straight up, I noticed just how stunning was Virginia’s blue sky. “Robert! That was quite a spill—are you alright?” Woody inquired—stopping short, for he had noticed something captivating as well: right beside the dyed Easter egg was a naturally vibrant one—an abandoned Robin’s egg “Yes, yes, Woody, I’m fine,” I assured him as I admired his discovery. Holding it up to view nature’s perfection, the blue sky contrasted perfectly with the Robin’s egg blue. I thought aloud—and Woodrow assented—the two colors were an ideal combination of the most natural elements in this world—Virginia’s Blue sky and the Robin’s Egg blue.
Plum and Lilac
At home in the Virginia countryside and seated beneath a secluded lilac tree, I enjoyed a delightful summer picnic with my sweetheart, Lady Redd. As she opened the wicker picnic basket, revealing buttermilk scones and deep purple, plum preserves, I uncorked a bottle of sweet, plum wine and poured a glass for each of us. A warm, summer breeze carried a wafting fragrance of lilacs that was most pleasant. “I cannot image a more perfect pairing” Lady Redd murmured as she spread plum preserves on a warm scone. I swirled the glass of wine before me, watching the sunlight catch it’s lucent, violet hues. With a languorous sip, I turned to Lady Redd and replied, “Yes, I must say, the colors of the plums and lilacs are engaging, indeed.” “I couldn’t agree more, darling,” my patient Lady said, “but I was referring of course to you and I.” I had to laugh at this, because the delicate, rich colors and sensations of plum and lilac were certainly every bit as eye-catching as the lovely Lady beside me.
Shocking Pink and Tangerine
On the opening eve of Paris’ Carnival in Montmartre, I joined the revelers with an evening spent dancing at the Moulin Rouge. The dance hall’s windmill had beckoned to me all day from my hotel window. Now, in evening’s bright, garish lights, it glowed marvelously with the tantalizing promise of temptation. Once inside, I immediately ordered my favorite tangerine tart to sustain me. The flaky, buttery crust was a perfect complement to the tart’s juicy, tangerine center. As I ravenously devoured my culinary treat, the Can-Can girls dazzled me, their legs kicking ever so high and causing my pulse to quicken with every racy, sure-footed step. Within minutes, I too had joined the throngs of dancing ladies, with the lovely Olympia by my side, swirling her lacy, hot pink dress and urging me to move ever faster and faster. Amidst the delightful chaos, I was reminded of the sketches that Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec completed just a few years ago capturing the same alluring tangerine and Shocking pink hues. Clearly, he was as inspired as I was to immortalize these bright, bold colors.
Cloud Blue and Tangerine
There really is nothing quite like Paris in the springtime. On one particularly fine day in 1896, I took advantage of the pleasant weather and blue sky by taking a stroll through the Jardin des Tuileries. The thoughtfully landscaped garden was filled to the brim with delightful groupings of vibrantly hued flowers. Were I with a female companion, this garden would be just the place to woo her, as there is nothing like Paris to charm a lady. However, in my contented solitude, my thoughts were taken over by memories of the previous evening, when I’d basked in the tangerine miasma of the Moulin Rouge. As the enlivened, cabaret music thrilled the audience, I had relished the coquettish allure of dancing girls. The tangerine atmosphere of the evening’s debauchery, now followed by the day’s divine blue sky constituted a faultless combination for my travels.
Tahitian Blue and Brilliant Green
In 1897, I ventured to Tahiti to visit my good friend Paul Gauguin and observe his talent in action. I had not seen Gauguin since he sailed away six years ago, eschewing European civilization and “everything that is artificial and conventional.” As I watched him, now blissfully at peace on the Tahitian beach, his easel, planted firmly in the sand, I began to understand his way of thinking. He motioned for his attractive, native model to adopt a seductive pose and began to paint the scene’s vibrant hues. Meanwhile, I sat by, content to watch the master and my margarita work their magic. “By God,” I exclaimed as I surveyed the mise en scene, “The view from where I’m sitting is incredible.” Following my gaze to his stunning model, Gauguin smiled knowingly and filled his brush with the lovely green of the island seascape. “And the scenery isn’t half bad either,” I added with a wink. I can’t deny that a significant pull for my visit was Gauguin’s appealing description of the native girls, artistic inspiration enough for any man, to be sure. “I sink it’s done, Roberr,” he finally announced with pride, eyeing his cloisonné masterpiece of primitivism, a curious yet appealing combination of colors- Gauguin’s brilliant green and the vast blue of the Tahitian Sea.
Slate green and Robin's Egg
In 1910, the Redd family was spending Easter Sunday with Woodrow Wilson and his family, as was their annual tradition. As the adults prepared for brunch, the children enjoyed a delightful and rousing egg hunt through the lawn. After the children had discovered all of the eggs, Woodrow was quite pleased there would be no mess for the gardener, the Wilsons and the Redds gathered for brunch on the sparkling patio. “Why look,” said my lovely lady as my nieces and nephews piled their hardboiled discoveries into her lap, “Murdy,” who was quite a little bear, “and Charley,” who often reminded me of myself “have found an additional, very special egg indeed!” She held the Robin’s egg she referred to up for the crowd to see. Truth be told, Woodrow and I had guided the boys to the natural marvel. Still, I walked closer to praise the little rascals for their keen-eyed find. Yet, as I was doing so, the little blue egg toppled off my lady’s lap and onto the slate green patio. “Oh my!” someone said aloud “amazing the Robin’s Egg didn’t break. The color looks absolutely marvelous against the patio’s subtle green.” Everyone agreed- until Woodrow, not looking where he was going, stepped directly on top of our treasure, smashing it to smithereens. “Well, Woody,” I taunted, “it seems the gardener will have quite the little mess to clean up after all.”
Sea Blue and Amazon Green
In 1914, I had an exciting chance to venture south, traveling through the Amazon with my old friend Teddy Roosevelt as he searched for the perfect subject of his hunt. After a day spent exploring the jungle, Teddy suddenly grew tense with excitement. He carefully aligned the barrel of his gun with the plump bridge of his nose. “By God, Robert, I’ve found one!” He roared, splendidly surprised to spot a lazy crocodile basking in the sun. “Ah Teddy, it is a magnificent animal, it is not?” I asked, gazing at the reptile that lay nearly eight feet long in front of me- and suddenly feeling quite uncomfortable. Noticing my discomfort, Teddy inquired “Why whatever is the matter Robert? Teddy raising an eyebrow inquisitively at me, “we’ve spent nearly four hours searching for this animal- you’re not about to suggest we stop now!” “Perhaps…” I grinned, staying ever so calm, “I think it’s time we give the croc his victory. Besides, I’d rather have spent my afternoon flirting with native women.” I chuckled, turned, and as quickly as my stiffened knees would allow, left the massive reptile in peace. With shoulder slumped, Teddy lowered his gun and followed. “The simple beauty of the Amazon green rainforest against the glittering sea is enough for me, “ thought I, a combination that mesmerizing deserves to remain for another visitor to enjoy.
Limeade and White
The air in Argentina was ripe with excitement when I arrived at the Plaze de Mayo to celebrate my arrival. My lovely dance partner, Eva Perón’s crisp, lime green dress swirled around her body as our tango drew toward its inevitable close. The heat was unbearable, the sun, relentless, but the brow of Eva never flinched. The delicate, white flower placed just above her right ear twisted through her hair—bright, fresh, and perfectly intact—just like Evita herself. Its soft petals contrasted splendidly with her bronze skin and the lime brightness of her dress. Like a pool of refreshing shade in the heart of the sun-drenched Plaza de Mayo, she rested, breathless in my arms. “You are still quite the dancer, Senor Redd,” she whispered with a smile. “Yes, I am indeed,” I thought mischievously, my confidence escalating with the heat of the moment. Eva and I were as fitting as lime and white. Irresistible and refreshing; Two colors that, quite simply, belong together.
Lilac and Virginia Blue Sky
Exhausted from weeks spent gallivanting about Europe with all the usual suspects, I returned home thrilled to find my favorite lilac tree had blossomed in my absence. I had barely unpacked my bags when I realized what I truly needed was relaxation after the day’s journey. From my vantage point on the veranda, I realized the only place I belonged at that moment was lying outside against that wonderful tree and looking up at Virginia’s brilliant sky. Within moments, I had found sanctuary in that very spot. Lulled to sleep by the fragrant blooms, I dreamt of women beneath a cloudless, blue sky. Tomorrow would bring another adventure- perhaps an angling trip on a backcountry river or a round of shooting- but today, I reveled in the comforting colors of home.
Redd was inspired by the glistening, pink salmon that he and Hemingway caught on their fishing trips to Redd’s family fishing lodge on Michigan’s Big Two Hearted River. Although the time spent with his family had always been a significant pull to bring Redd back to Michigan, his annual fishing trips with his old pal Ernest Hemingway also served as a compelling reason to return. The delicious, pink salmon served as a fond reminder of his time spent fishing with both parties.
Kelly green would always remind Redd of Scotland, one of his very favorite vacation spots. Redd usually celebrated his arrival in Scotland, often with Lady Redd by his side, by enjoying a round of golf at his favorite spot, the Old Course at Saint Andrews. The lush, Kelly green of the course inspired many a hole-in-one for the Redds. However, the historical origins of Redd’s extended family also helped to make Scotland a favorite destination for the gallant rogue
Although he enjoyed a healthy, competitive spirit, Robert Redd was always a sportsman at heart. The strong sense of ethics that he built his company around also extended to his participation in a variety of gentlemanly, sporting pastimes. In particular, Redd enjoyed racquet sports, especially when given the chance to play outdoors and enjoy his natural settings. Of course, when Redd played competitively, gentlemen were only permitted to wear “whites.” Times have changed, with one exception, a gentleman still wears a white REDD shirt when he plays his sport, on and off the court.
Virginia Blue Sky
The timeless color of Virginia Sky Blue was inspired by the color of the skies in Redd’s native, home state. Although his travels brought him to the ends of the earth, Virginia would always remain Redd’s home and dear to his heart. Redd filled the majority of his days with a great deal of carousing and wild escapades. However, the calming influence of the blue sky at home was a constant source of bliss, rejuvenating his spirit after even the most rowdy of evenings.
This radiant, classic color held emotional significance to Robert Redd as it always reminded him of his initial meeting with his enchanting Lady Redd in the Connecticut dusk. Later, the color stayed with him in discussions of love with Ernest Hemingway years later, then to the last Czar’s magnificent palace and eventually to the Redds’ Highland honeymoon adventure. Twilight blue seemed to follow Robert and Lady Redd wherever they traveled and especially whenever they thought of one another.
Tomato and White
After a delicious lunch of tomato and mozzarella Lady Redd graciously offered to drop me at the Club on her way to tea at the Plaza. I had a lesson scheduled with the great Pierre Etchebaster- the current real tennis world champion. We rolled the windows of our roadster all the way down, inviting in the crisp, autumn air of New York City as we drove up Park Avenue, I thanked God for the cool weather that surrounded my remarkably elegant lady that morning. Wearing a brilliant, tomato colored blouse, Lady Redd looked just as the day we met. Naturally, tennis was not the only game on my mind. “Thank you darling,” I said, giving my lady a kiss goodbye. I opened the door and proceeded inside through the central arch. Etchebaster was already waiting for me in the gallary of the East Court, upright and ready in a leather chair. “Allo Monsieur Rouge,” he said with a smile. “Good morning, Pierre,” I responded tactfully, but my mind quickly darted back to that hot tomato I just left on the mean streets of New York. I almost wanted to spin round and see if I could catch her. That, however, would be bad form, I decided, seeing as I had a lesson . . . At five all in the third set (thanks to the handicap), I was to receive a game ball- with chase better than three yards. Etchebaster, master of a brilliant serve, delivered a sharp spinning, but strategically bouncing ball. As it came sliding off the penthouse, with my racquet ready, I was able to strike it perfectly, sending the ball slicingcross court towards last gallery, for a perfect second bounce at one yard. Alas, I had won the chase. Pierre stared in approval and slyly pronounced that with my stroke, the ball “eez quit zee ‘ot tomato, non?” I appreciated his compliment, but to be perfectly honest, the only hot tomato I wanted was that stunning Lady Redd. Perhaps I will always remember the impeccable day I "played up" against Pierre; winning chases, and where the combination of white and brilliant tomato red live on…
Navy and White
Just off the court, Redd was thirsty for new game. . . “The crisp white of my tennis shirt wasn’t the only contrast to the navy blazer drapped over my shoulder. She was standing near the pool bar, her white dress rippling in the slight summer breeze; I introduced myself to the lovely lass as she smiled back. ‘Ah,’ I thought, ‘tennis and women just like navy and white, pure sporting pleasure.’”
GG Green and Antiguan blue
Antigua, W.I., 1949. Renowned architect, Mr. Robertson “Happy” Ward and Redd ventured to Antigua to inspect a new project. The Antiguan blue water and the decidedly native greenery, reminded Redd of his grandmother’s observations regarding exclusive retreats: beauty and privacy.
Ocean Blue and Chocolate
Hershey, Pennsylvania, 1913. Milton Hershey and Redd were discussing the merits of mixture and good luck. Lucky for Redd Hershey found the combination of chocolate and ocean blue to be an attractive one. Rather ironic, as Hershey had been scheduled to be a passenger on the ill-fated Titanic the year before. Lucky for Hershey, he was unable to make the journey due to an illness.
Blue and Sun
Monte Carlo, April 19, 1956, Lady Redd and I spent the morning taking in the sun and sights on the beach under the most memorable blue sky. Monte Carlo’s beaches and the Grimaldi’s casino were not the focus of our trip, however, Lady Redd and Grace were friends and we were there to witness her marriage to Prince Rainier. Blue and sun made the most attractive and cheery combination, as did the bride and groom.
Slate Blue and Beige
January 15, 1951, Kenya, Africa. Lady Redd and I had been on safari for nearly three weeks. Everyday I was reminded of the mix of our slate blue clothing to that of the beige colors of Kenya. We were staying at the Treetops Hotel on the very night that Princess Elizabeth became Queen Elizabeth. She had received the news of King George VI’s death. We were moved by the historic moment of course, however, slate blue and beige remain Africa to Lady Redd and me.
Twilight and Sun
Palace of Versailles, July 1936. The unveiling of a stone tablet inscribed with gild letters thanking John D. Rockefeller Jr. for his generosity in the restoration of the palace and other French treasures. It was a splendid combination, the Sun King’s Hall of Mirrors coupled with the evening’s twilight, a most aristocratic contrast.
Kelly Green and Shocking Pink
Robert Redd and Lady Redd had the good fortune of enjoying the occasional weekend in Florida in the 1950’s. On one such weekend they literally ran into none other than Bob Hope, wearing a classic “preppy get-up” of Kelly Green and Shocking Pink.
Peach and Soft Peach
Jekyll Island, Georgia. Normally, I fall for the hot tomatoes, but this fine southern peach was a horse of a different color, so to speak. As we danced the night away, I was mesmerized by the soft peach of her skin and was all too well of aware of the delightful contrast it made to the elegant and revealing peachdress she wore.
Capri Blue and White
Capri, Italy. On an early visit to the remarkable Italian island, an easy boat ride from Napoli, Redd decided to make the hike to the ruins of Emperor Tiberius’ Villa. From high above, the dramatic contrast of the classic Capri blue hue against the white clouds was unforgettable.
Peach and White
J.P. Morgan didn’t mind Redd’s playfulness, as having sailed up from Biscayne Bay together Morgan knew Redd’s heart was in the right place. Redd eyed a fine Georgia peach to dance with and as luck would have it she wore a peach dress which was delightfully soft and subtle in comparison to his crisp whitedinner jacket. It was most memorable.
When color manuevers is your lifeblood and the expectation of the world is weighing heavily upon your choices, what better example of heroism is there then that of Lord Horatio Nelson? Nelson’s command was the basis for superiority of the high seas. Navy and honor go together and for Redd, Lord Nelson’s navy tail coat was the inspiration for the truest of colors and a true hero, true navy blue.
Newport, Rhode Island 1918. Grace Vanderbilt was presented to society at “Beaulieu.” My Lady had disappeared through the French doors from the “gold room” on to the veranda. She wore the most distinct and graceful blue dress. “My Lady, don’t you look ravishing.”I said chasing after her, “What do you call it?” Smiling, she whispered, “I’d call it Beaulieu Blue”
1935, New South Wales, Australia. My friend and fellow adventurer, Zane Grey had invited me, promising visual stimuli beyond my wildest imagination. “A land of coral” he called it. After a long and difficult day fishing marlin, we headed back. I glanced portside, instantly taken, the closing sun illuminating the reddish coral reef below.
Blue and Tomato
Robert Redd once again under an azure blue sky…as often the case, his Lady Redd was by his side, this time in the medieval town of Montecatini Terme in the beauteous mountains of Tuscany, Italy. Even there in Italy, Lady Redd was “One helluva hot tomato™.” Redd thought, as they dined in the piazza.
Slate Blue and White
Slate Blue rocks silhouetted against the white clouds were first in sight as Robert Redd awoke from a night in a sleeping bag in his craggy mountain perch. Traveling with Teddy Roosevelt creates it’s own challenges. But Redd enjoyed every moment with the former Rough Rider.
Twilight and White
Cocktails on the veranda, the irregular wrap-around porches of a Newport Cottage found Robert Redd and Lady Redd, enjoying the sea air. The Twilight sky against the freshly painted white frame structure imbedded a memory to be savored in the years to follow.
Violet and Robins' Egg
Violets clutched in her hands, the three-year-old petite actress, dressed in robin’s egg blue danced for Robert Redd at a private party in 1931. Just beginning to be noticed, by the age of six her name was a household word. Robert Redd whispered to her, “You’ll conquer any audience with your dancing and performance skills.”
Robin's Egg and White
In a bowl the color of a robin’s egg, snowy white sugar waited for Robert Redd’s coffee “How much sugar would you care for, good sir?” asked Albert, as he spooned the white stuff into my steaming mug of coffee. “It’s all relative, you know,” I answered. We laughed . . .My did we laugh.
Tangerine and Robin's Egg
Tangerines shipped from and named for Tangier, Morroco, set in a bowl, next to the robin’s egg colored pool of his friends Florida home. Key Biscayne was nearlydeserted when Redd first saw it. The combination, Tangerine and robin’s egg blue caught his imagination and he stayed to build an estate there.
Salmon and Robin's Egg
Her eye . . . that of Robin’s egg blue, gazed into Redd's eyes as he watched the redheaded girl filleting salmon steaks for grilling over an open fire. Alaska offered many sights and adventures. The soothing combination, would be sure to have even Hemingway reflecting upon Redd’s good fortune.
Twilight and Blue
Blue and twilight make a match, thought Robert Redd as he watched his Lady Redd descend the long staircase at the Villa Rotunda. The dress of blue, similar yet distinctly different from the twilight sky caught Robert Redd’s eye. It proved to be another magical evening in the Italian countryside for the adventurous couple.
Robin's Egg and Powder Blue
As we readied for sleep that night I remarked to Lady Redd, “what an amazing day it was; a true robin’s egg on the very day of Easter.” As I contemplated the irony in walked my lady wearing the most attractive powder blue nightgown and in her palm the same robin’s egg.
One hot tomato! We describe Lady Redd of course . . .Robert Redd idealized his Lady Redd, who was actually quite a lady. Sedate and well bred, it was only occasionally that her heated inner core, flared above the surface. Tomatoes go into the hottest sauces for flavor! Lady Redd was no exception to this rule.
There is something about the blue of a robin’s egg, that tranquil color, the pureness of the creation. Redd considered it his personal four leaf clover; often surprised by one materializing in a wall, or in the grass, sometimes below the tree where it laid to rest after tumbling from its nest. Symbolic, as it seemed to always coincide with the hatching of a new idea.