What Does Purple Mean In The Handmaid's Tale
I was digging through my grandma’s old linen closet the other day, a truly sacred space filled with the scent of mothballs and decades of accumulated textiles. Amongst the crisp, starched sheets and slightly scratchy blankets, I found a beautiful, worn quilt. It was a riot of colors, but one particular shade of deep, bruised purple stood out. It was the color of twilight just before it gets truly dark, or the faded velvet of an old theatre curtain. It made me pause. Grandma, bless her practical soul, wasn't exactly known for her flair for the dramatic or her embrace of anything remotely opulent. So, why this rich, almost regal purple? It got me thinking about how colors aren't just… well, colors. They’re loaded. They carry weight. And that’s precisely what brought me back to the stark, unsettling world of The Handmaid's Tale.
Let’s be honest, the color palette in Gilead is intense. It’s all about uniforms, about assigning roles, about stripping away individuality. And if there’s one color that whispers, or more accurately, screams its significance, it’s got to be purple.
But here’s the thing: it’s not as straightforward as you might think. In The Handmaid's Tale, purple isn't just one thing. It's a chameleon, shifting its meaning depending on who's wearing it and in what context. And that's the really juicy part, isn't it? The way a single shade can hold so much contradictory power.
The Queen Bees of Gilead: The Wives
First, let’s talk about the most obvious association: the Wives. Think of Serena Joy, for instance. When she's not in her prim, stark blue, she's often seen in shades of purple. This isn't just a fashion choice, people. This is symbolism, pure and unadulterated. Traditionally, purple has been the color of royalty, of wealth, of power. And in Gilead, the Wives are the closest thing they have to a ruling class, at least within their domestic spheres. They are the ones who hold the social capital, the ones who dictate the household. They have the luxury of color.
It’s a visual shorthand, isn't it? You see that rich, often slightly muted purple, and you immediately understand: this is someone with status, someone who is above the drudgery. It’s a stark contrast to the stark red of the Handmaids, a color that screams fertility, reproduction, and essentially, their entire purpose. The purple signifies a different kind of power – the power of ownership, of control, of being the "lady" of the house.
But even here, there's an irony. This "royal" purple is often shown in fabrics that are somewhat stiff, perhaps a little outdated. It's not the vibrant, flowing purple of a modern queen. It hints at a faded glory, a power that is inherited and perhaps a little brittle. It’s the color of a crown that’s starting to tarnish, if you catch my drift.
And let's not forget the emotional weight. The Wives, despite their perceived power, are often depicted as deeply unhappy, insecure, and desperate. Their purple dresses, while denoting status, also cloak their internal turmoil. It’s a visually appealing facade that hides a lot of rot. So, is it truly power they wear, or just the performance of power?
The Unsettling Aura: The Marthas
Now, this is where things get a little more nuanced, and honestly, a lot more interesting. While the Wives often sport brighter, more regal purples, the Marthas – the domestic servants – sometimes wear shades of a much more subdued, almost drab purple. Think of Rita, for example. Her uniform is often a duller, more practical shade of purple or plum. This isn't about royalty; it's about something else entirely.
What does this muted purple signify for the Marthas? It’s a color that’s less about status and more about… utility, perhaps? Or maybe it's about something more complex, something tied to their roles as caregivers, as nurturers, but in a society that often devalues those very roles. It's the color of bruised fruit, of things that are past their prime, of quiet endurance.
It’s also a color that doesn’t scream for attention. The Marthas are supposed to blend in, to be the silent engine of the households. Their purple is less a declaration and more a low hum. It's a color that can easily be overlooked, much like the people who wear it. And that, my friends, is a chilling thought.
There’s a certain melancholy to this shade of purple, a sense of resignation. It's the color of shadows, of things happening behind closed doors. And considering the secret alliances and quiet rebellions that often bloom within the Martha community, this subdued purple takes on a whole new layer of meaning. It’s the color of the hidden network, the unseen support system that keeps Gilead functioning, and sometimes, allows cracks to form.
Think about it: the Wives’ purple is aspirational, a declaration of their place. The Marthas’ purple is… functional. It’s the color of labor, of service, of a life lived in muted tones. It’s a fascinating contrast, and it really highlights how Gilead uses color not just to identify roles, but to reinforce the social hierarchy and the psychological impact of those roles.
The Whispers of Rebellion: The Unseen and Unnamed
But here’s where the purple gets really intriguing, and where its meaning starts to bleed outside the strict confines of the Wives and Marthas. Sometimes, in unexpected moments, we see flashes of purple that aren't part of the official uniform. Think about the brief glimpses we get of the resistance, or the coded messages. Purple can sometimes be a whisper of something more, a hint of defiance.
Is it a deliberate choice by the creators of the show to inject a bit of color, a splash of something unexpected, into a world that’s so intentionally muted? Or is it a subconscious nod to the deeper meanings of purple? It’s hard to say, but it’s definitely worth paying attention to.
The color purple, in its various shades, also has historical and psychological associations with spirituality, with intuition, and with the subconscious. In a society that actively suppresses individual thought and spiritual expression, these subtle nods to purple could be interpreted as a subtle rebellion, a reminder of what’s been lost, and what might still exist beneath the surface.
Consider the moments when Offred experiences vivid flashbacks or has intense dreams. While not always explicitly purple, there's often an emotional resonance to these moments that can be evoked by the color. Purple can be the color of deep emotion, of suppressed desires, of a mind yearning for freedom even when the body is bound.
And then there are those moments when purple appears in the natural world of Gilead. A single, stubborn flower pushing through the cracks in the pavement. A bruised sky after a storm. These are moments of natural beauty, of resilience, in a world that tries to stamp it out. These organic purples are a reminder that life, in its most fundamental sense, finds a way.
It’s like a secret handshake, this color. For those who are in the know, for those who are looking for signs, that splash of purple might mean something more. It’s a symbol of hope, of memory, of the enduring human spirit. It’s the color of the clandestine, the unspoken, the things that Gilead can’t quite manage to control.
The Spectrum of Oppression
Ultimately, what purple means in The Handmaid's Tale is multifaceted. It’s a marker of the Wives’ brittle, inherited power. It’s the somber hue of the Marthas’ subservient labor. And it’s a subtle, potentially subversive hint of something more – of intuition, of rebellion, of the natural world’s enduring beauty.
It’s a masterclass in visual storytelling. The show doesn't just give us characters; it gives us their symbolic weight through color. And purple, in its various forms, is a key player in this dark, oppressive narrative. It’s a reminder that even within a totalitarian regime, where individuality is systematically dismantled, color still holds meaning. It’s a language that speaks volumes without uttering a single word.
So, the next time you’re watching, or even just thinking about Gilead, pay attention to the purples. What shade is it? Who is wearing it? What are they doing? Because in the world of The Handmaid's Tale, that little bit of purple might just be telling you everything you need to know.
It’s a constant reminder that even in the bleakest of circumstances, humans find ways to express themselves, to assert their identities, and to leave their mark. Whether it's through the opulent, yet hollow, gowns of the Wives or the quiet resilience of a Martha’s uniform, purple is a color that refuses to be silenced. It’s a color that, in its own subtle way, fights back.
And honestly, when you think about the sheer bleakness of Gilead, those pops of color, even the more somber ones, feel like a lifeline. They’re visual anchors in a sea of grey despair. They remind us that beneath the oppressive uniforms and the rigid rules, there are still people, with their own internal lives, their own histories, and their own hidden depths. And that, I think, is a pretty profound thing to find in a color.
It makes you wonder about the other colors, doesn’t it? The blues of the Wives, the greens of the Handmaids (though they are primarily red, there are those brief moments), the muted greys of the Aunts. Each one is a deliberate choice, a calculated message. But for me, purple has always held a special, slightly unsettling, and deeply compelling significance. It's the color that makes you lean in, that makes you question, that makes you see the cracks in the perfect, terrifying facade of Gilead.
So yeah, that quilt in Grandma’s closet? It might have been more than just a pretty pattern. It might have been a silent testament to the enduring power of color, even in the most unexpected places. And that, my friends, is a story worth sharing.