She had spent a lifetime being told to be careful about how she dressed.
It was true that her complexion was particularly pale, only one shade above white, it was that, and the fact that she had always had a great shock of red hair, which she liked to grow long. Most of the advice she received, since childhood, had been about what colours she could simply never wear. She’d been constantly told that green was completely out, quoting the adage that red and green should not be seen. However, whenever she put something green on and stared at herself in her bedroom mirror, she positively loved the effect it had. She found the contrast exhilarating. So, over the years she had perfected the art of deliberately contrasting colours that made her perfectly comfortable with looking intentionally startling.
The results of this choice of allowing her personal pleasure in her bizarre apparel to outweigh any form of consideration for the feelings of others was twofold. It limited the number of friends that were willing to be seen in her company and it kept her relationships with men to an absolute minimum. That was the case until the man from the newspaper who created their daily crosswords met her on the bus. They hit it off straight away and began dating regularly. It was obvious to each of them that they had found the loves of their lives.
He was colour-blind.