SOUTH PORTLAND – In a recent fit of cleaning, I had the brilliant notion to re-paint my bedroom. In my mind’s eye, I was envisioning a soft sage-y gray — and I don’t need to tell you, Mr. Moore, that there are no fewer than 6,394 shades of gray in your paint spectrum.

While I thank you for all of those options, I will also tell you that I nearly had a nervous breakdown selecting which shade of gray would be just the right shade of gray.

And I learned that the paint name — sadly — really matters. I was all set on one particular gray, but it was called “Iced Marble.” The name alone left me cold.

However, I want to compliment you and your staff on the obvious creativity involved in the selection of your paint color names, Mr. Moore (may I call you Benjamin?). I can imagine the hours your paint namers spend, sequestered in meticulously lit rooms — “Where’s Sid?” “He’s in Daylight.” “Where’s Doris?” “Dusk.” — hunched around tables, trying to capture the essence of a color.

The nuance alone is staggering. Sea Mist Green is only a soupcon away from Seafoam Green. I was surprised to find that the colors “Innocence” and “Serenity” were both shades of blue. I applaud your crew for thinking outside the proverbial paint box.

I would ask that this letter serve as my official application to become one of your paint namers. My gentle suggestion is that perhaps paint names that are more relevant might be best sellers.

To that end, I propose an entire line of menopausal colors: “Middle-Aged Acne Peach”; “Weight Gain Gray”; “Water Retention Mauve.” Think about it, Benjamin. “Sliding South Magenta.” “Splitting Headache Orange.” “Where Are My Car Keys? Turquoise.” Women (and more than a few men) all over the world would not only relate to these colors, but snatch them up like contestants in a supermarket sweepstakes.

Or consider a line of colors geared to parents of teenagers. “You Missed Your Curfew Purple.” “Smelly Socks Brown.” “Leftover Pizza Red.” “You’re Wearing Too Much Eyeliner Black.” The possibilities are endless. “Who Put The Empty Milk Carton Back In The Fridge? Cream.” “You Call That Music? Blue.” (That would work well with “Splitting Headache Orange.”)

This is in no way meant as a criticism, Ben. I swoon at names like “Harbor Fog” and “Pre-Dawn Sky.” But if our homes are to be reflections of ourselves and our personalities, let’s get real. I don’t want to offer up all my suggestions right here — naturally — because (as the saying goes) why buy the cow when you get the milk for free?

But consider the possibilities of a line of colors that tackle communication: “No Texting While Driving Pink.” “Tweet Me Blue.” “You’ve Got Mail Beige.” As I see it, the sky’s the limit. (Oh! I like that one for a light blue.) “You Get My Drift Taupe.”

“Color Me Grateful.” 

Peg Keyser Thompson is a resident of South Portland.