Gray. It’s the color of . . .

-The clouds that hang low and dark and heavy overhead on a dreary day.
-Those unwelcome and rebellious wiry hairs that spring up to announce advancing age.
-That ugly, murky “area” between good and bad, and truth and falsehood, that leaves room for moral wavering and political double-talk.
-The dingy shade of your favorite white T-shirt by the time it’s ready for the rag bag.
-That cold, dirty, crusty apron of receding snow that resists the arrival of spring.

So, I ask you: How did this unworthy and depressing hue ever become the New Neutral in virtually every interior designer’s palette in the country in 2017?

You may think that’s an overstatement, but I see it on cable T.V. every time I work out at my friendly neighborhood SNAP Fitness Center. Each day, I climb onto the same treadmill (I think it actually has my name on it somewhere), insert my ear buds, and listen and watch as the national experts on HGTV lead me through house after house after house dressed in calming shades of the non-color that Dictionary.com defines as resting somewhere between white and black.

Oh, and definitions two and three? “Dark, dismal, or gloomy; dull, dreary, or monotonous.”

Yes, whether it’s Love It or List It, The Property Brothers, Flip or Flop, or even many of the recent remodels on Fixer Upper, the affinity for cool and clean with “pops of color” has reached epidemic proportions.

I get the Zen of it all. And I get wanting a restful, uncluttered environment to return to at the end of a busy workday. What I don’t get is how the trend toward Industrial Sterile, with enough stainless steel to equip an operating arena, has so thoroughly supplanted the concept of home that people once yearned for—a comforting cocoon to provide shelter and a sense of being cosseted from the cold and impersonal outside world.

Guess I’m just a sucker for the cozy, inviting feel of earth tones and nubby textures. Call me old-fashioned. (No really, stop that; it’s just a figure of speech.) I also object to vaulted ceilings and enormous entryways that lead to cavernous great rooms more reminiscent of a commercial property than a family residence.

And while I understand that tastes differ greatly, give me an earthy sage-green bedroom with cherry wood furnishings, a boring creamy-beige den with lots of rich umber accents, and a buttery yellow sunroom any day. Unfortunately, a search of available properties on the internet isn’t offering up anything of the sort right now. Wonder how many years—or decades—I’ll have to wait before warm and comfy gets popular again?