Thanks to my articles and research on color theory and how vision works, I'm aware that the part of the spectrum the human eye is most sensitive to is the green part. That's why night-vision goggles show things in shades of green, and possibly why one of the first LED colors was green, and I suspect why green means go in most of human culture. We could get philosophical about it, because the sun puts off a disproportionate amount of its light in the green portion of the visible spectrum. Waaaay back, there were primitive plants who used different colors of light to make photosynthesis happen - particularly the red end - but when green plants developed, they outclassed and outgrew the other plants and put them out of business. They had the most light to work with, and the most efficient chloroplasts. (Yes, I am a plant freak. Why do you ask?)
Then again, it's humans who arbitrarily chopped up the spectrum into hunks and decided to call part of it green, so maybe it's all about us, after all. Some more 'primitive' human societies make do with only three or four words for colors, and function quite well. They can SEE all the colors, they just use three or four words to sum them up. Even as recently as five hundred years ago, orange as a color word was unknown in most Europen languages. "Stuart Red" in those old Scottish tartans is, in fact, a nice happy orange color. (Why yes, I am a history and anthropology freak. Why do you ask? Color vision and definition is actually a favorite topic in anthropology, and there are lots of articles on it if you're curious.)
What does this mean in practical terms? I'll tell you what it means. IT MEANS IT'S FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE TO MATCH GREEN EMBROIDERY FLOSS TO THE GREEN YARN IN THE BLOODY DAMNED RUSSIAN PRIME. That's what it means.
I went out last night to the craft store to get the floss. Whose bright idea it was to put flourescent light in a craft store, I don't know, but they need to be dragged into the street, tarred, feathered, and flogged. (Flourescent light reflects colors weirdly, in particular - ha - reds and greens.) Eventually I narrowed it down to three floss choices, and after at least five minutes' dithering around (that's a lot of time for me, in a store, shopping) mentally flipped a coin and bought one.
This was the best I could do.
Probably 95% of you are looking at that photo going "Uh... that looks fine."
The other 5%, like me, are looking at it and shrieking "AAAAH! THAT LOOKS LIKE SHIT!"
According to my optometrist, some people are more sensitive to color than others and apparently really do see more colors. It's not a large portion of the population, and unfortunately I seem to be one. The subject came up with my optometrist when I told him I could tell the difference between glass and plastic lenses by how colors look through them. Yes, I can tell a difference. Glass is better. Apparently we're talking an infantesimal difference in the light going through, between glass and plastic lenses. The eyeglass researchers claim it's impossible to tell the difference, though my doc said he knew one or two other patients who also complained about color vision with their glasses. I suspect the super-sensitive color vision thing is much like having perfect pitch is for hearing people; more trouble than it's worth, the majority of the time.
At any rate, I got the stuff, and now I need to go finish the nipple warmers. And then use the not-matching floss to sew up the neck of the Russian Prime.