A gentleman from India became friends with my family as a result of a chance meeting in April of 1964 at the World's Fair in NYC.
He made several trips north to visit us. The first visit was in early Spring. The next visit was in late summer.
Between visits my pale Irish winter skin had gained a tan
and when I picked him up at the airport he said, sorrowfully : "Oh, you have lost your lovely color."
I had never thought of myself as having color!
It was an "Ahhhhhhhh Haaaaaaaaaa" moment.
Have never thought about my color the same way again.
It's all in the eye - and the mind ? - of the beolder !