A Colour Story: Shades of the Caribbean in Everyday Life

In the Caribbean, colour is not merely visual, it is emotional, cultural and profoundly alive. It clings to walls and dances through textiles. It saturates markets, rituals, and Carnival streets. From the shifting blues of the sea to the burnt pinks of village homes, colour is both our landscape and our language.

Blue Like the Morning Sea

The Caribbean is often imagined in blues, brilliant, infinite, and layered. Yet even this singular colour holds multitudes. The early morning sea in Saint Lucia takes on a soft milkiness, while in The Bahamas, the shutters of wooden houses gleam in shades of turquoise. In Dominica, the ocean deepens into indigo under stormy skies.

As scholars have observed, “There is a preference for vivid colours rather than pastels, so that a Caribbean gathering of peoples appears more flamboyant on screen or paper.” In island life, blue is not cool and distant, it is close and familiar. It is the rhythm of tides and trade winds, of work and worship. It is the pulse of memory.

The Yellow That Warms Us

Yellow, in its many forms, sunlight, turmeric, mango, marigold - represents more than brightness. It radiates warmth, joy, and resilience. From the ochre facades of colonial homes in Old San Juan to the golden glow of late-afternoon light in Jamaica, yellow is ever-present. It is both grounding and celebratory.

For many, yellow is deeply personal. Caribbean artist John Lyons, whose work is rooted in folklore and lived experience, speaks of colour as integral to meaning:

This interplay between tone and tradition ensures that colour is never just a backdrop, it is part of the narrative.

Coral, Hibiscus and the Colour of Skin

In the Caribbean palette, warmth continues through the oranges and pinks of coral reefs, hibiscus petals, guava flesh, and terracotta rooftops. These are the tones of skin and emotion, of intimacy and inheritance. In Barbados, pink is painted on doorframes for luck. In Haiti, red takes centre stage in sacred altars and Vodou ceremonies.

These colours hold both tenderness and power. Their presence in carnival fabrics, shrines and murals anchors them in cultural identity.

According to artist and academic Paul Dash, who explored Caribbean masquerade and colour in his work:

In other words, colour is not just expressive, it is political. It resists silence.

Colour as Memory, as Archive

Living in the Caribbean is to live with colour as memory. Rust-red after rain. Banana leaf green. The purple hue of dusk on limestone. These colours hold not just beauty, but story, markers of place, season and emotion.

In creative practice, this memory becomes material. Artists dye fabric with turmeric, annatto and indigo, not only to create, but to honour. Designers, painters and craftspeople build visual worlds with these tones as ancestral tools. Their palettes are often intuitive, but deeply tied to a collective sense of what the region feels like - humid, bright, complex.

The Colour of Home

For those in the diaspora, colour often returns as a feeling. A swatch of coral in a London flat or the sudden flash of teal on a stranger’s scarf can conjure a flood of memory. Colour connects us across distance, generations and geographies.

Whether worn, painted, spoken, or remembered, Caribbean colour is more than aesthetic. It is emotional. It is living history. It is home.

What colour reminds you of the Caribbean and why?