If Beige Is Healing, Why Do I Still Cry in Zara?

by someone who once meditated so hard they disassociated into a fitting room mirror.

Beige is having a renaissance. It’s the Gwyneth Paltrow of colors—neutral, expensive-looking, emotionally avoidant. You see it everywhere: on Pinterest boards titled “Soft Girl Depression”, in influencer apartments where every item is “curated,” and in the homes of people who use the word “sanctuary” unironically.

And at the heart of this sad latte-colored movement is #C4A381 — the kind of beige that screams “I just spent $300 on a linen jumpsuit so I can feel something.” It's the shade of a therapy couch that’s heard too much, a minimalist lamp that silently judges you, and your ex’s new girlfriend’s entire Instagram feed.

But here’s the thing...

If beige is supposed to be healing, why do I still sob uncontrollably in Zara’s changing room under fluorescent lights that smell like polyester and capitalism?

Beige isn’t just a color. It’s a Diagnosis.

Let me tell you something about #C4A381. It’s not just a hex code. It’s a personality type. It’s the friend who tells you to “just vibe through it” while you’re actively combusting. It’s oat milk with commitment issues. It’s the moment in a coming-of-age film where the protagonist stares at the ocean and feels nothing.

They say beige is soothing. No. Beige is avoidant. Beige doesn’t confront. Beige doesn’t cry. Beige puts on an Aritzia trench coat and walks into the fog while Mazzy Star plays faintly in the distance.

Meet the Beige Extended Universe (B.E.U.)

Let’s talk about its cousins, shall we?

• #EED6C4 – “Almond Mom Energy”
  This one drinks hot lemon water, resents her kids, and can name every Erewhon employee by zodiac sign.
• #DCC6B0 – “Dusty Beige with Trust Issues”
  Neutral enough for your landlord’s hallway. Hides wine stains and emotional suppression.
• #F0E5DE – “Instagram Therapist Vibes”
  Their grid is full of quotes like “you’re not too much, they were just not enough” over a blurred photo of sand. Will ghost you mid-session to “reset her energy.”
• #CDBBA7 – “That One Beige Coat Everyone Has”
  The official uniform of women who walk too fast in airports and date men named after fonts (Hi, Garamond).

So why Zara? Why there?

Because Zara is the color beige if it were a store.
It promises sophistication but delivers an existential crisis in rayon.
Every time I walk in, it feels like a mannequin is negging me.
"Sorry, hun. Your hips are too three-dimensional for this trench."

The lighting? Clinical. The vibes? Apocalyptic. The music? Aggressively European.

I went in last week for a “neutral basic” and left with three crop tops, a panic attack, and the sudden urge to text my therapist “u up?”

Spoiler: she’s not. She also shops at Zara.

Beige Isn’t Healing. It’s a Cult.

Let’s be honest: beige didn’t heal you.
Beige just muted the chaos long enough to make it Pinterest-friendly.

You’re still spiraling, but now you’re doing it in a monochrome color scheme with a boucle ottoman.
You’re still crying, but your tears match your aesthetic.
And you know what? That’s beautiful.

But don’t let them sell you #C4A381 as salvation. That’s not healing. That’s rebranding.

Final thoughts from a person who cried into a cardigan

One day, we’ll snap. We’ll wear the color chartreuse again. We’ll paint one wall maroon just to feel something. We’ll bring back neon and emotion.

But until then?

I’ll be in Zara. Crying in the fitting room.
Wrapped in beige.
Looking healed.
But knowing deep down…

I’m still unwell.