“What’s your favourite colour?” Ronnie asked out of the blue one day. Seven year-old-me was in a tizzy. We were at the swing set, swinging away in the golden afternoon sunlight. It made me consider how my favourite colour was going to influence our friendship in the years to come. Growing up, the concept of having a favourite colour seemed far more important than it turned out to be. That question hasn’t been put up to me in recent years, unless as a security measure for password recovery. Even so, we don’t put any voluntary thought into realising what our favourite colour is in our prosaic existence.