The Sound of Colour, with COAT Paints

Le son de la couleur

WORDS
Sharon Glover
THE PAPER
Conversation
8th September 2026

We work in feeling. We don't just suggest a thick pile carpet, we ask our clients to imagine getting out of bed, feet sinking into it on a frosty morning. We draw on every sense to share a vision with someone who can't yet see it.

The same is true of colour. We rarely experience it through sight alone. Can a colour evoke a sound, a scent, a memory? It's more than pure whimsy. There's growing research into the way our brains connect the senses, whether we notice it or not.

We spoke with Rob Abrahams, co-founder of COAT Paints, about why some shades seem to hold a feeling before they've even been named, and why the right name can be just as elusive as the perfect shade.

CR: If a colour could make a sound, would The Tobacconist be quiet or loud?

CP: Quiet, but with a confident hum underneath. The Tobacconist is that deep green you don't clock straight away, and then you can't stop noticing it. If it made a sound, it'd be something warm and slightly rebellious. Never a shout, but maybe of a bluesy saxophone coming from somewhere you can’t see.

CR: Can a colour have a scent as well as a sound? Is there one that takes you back to a specific memory? 

CP: Definitely. Camber does it for me. It's got that sun-warmed, sandy quality, and every time I look at it I'm back on a beach somewhere with salt on my skin and a car full of towels. I can smell the sea breeze and wet sand.

Colour and memory are so tangled up. I don't think you can separate a good shade from the feeling it brings up.

Rob Abrahams and Rob Green, Co-Founders at COAT

CR: Is there a colour where the name you started with wasn't the name you ended up with?

CP: Constantly. Naming is one of the hardest parts of the job, oddly enough, harder than mixing the actual paint. We'll live with a working name for months, then something in conversation just clicks and the old name suddenly feels wrong. Colours earn their names, so we don't force it.

CR: When you feel something about a colour, do you trust that straight away, or test it against others first?

CP: I trust the gut reaction, but I don't stop there. If a colour does something to me the moment I see it on the wall, that's real data. But then I'll get it in front of the team, in different rooms, at different times of day, because my gut in a north-facing room in December is not the whole story.

Instinct starts it and scrutiny finishes it.

CR: Is there a colour you privately think is underrated?

CP: Well Grounded. It never gets the attention of our louder shades, but it's one of the most deliberate colours we make. Somewhere between a risk-averse neutral, and a bold mid-tone. It quietly does everything right and never asks for credit.

CR: Have you ever developed a colour that surprised you with the emotional response it created?

CP: Brasserie Brown. We developed it in collaboration with Laura Jackson to be a deep, sophisticated brown - but one that plays like a neutral and doesn’t steal attention. But the reaction to it has been far more emotional than we expected. People send us photos of rooms they've painted in it and talk about how bold and brave it makes them feel. We didn't design for that but, so often, colour has a habit of doing more than you planned for it to do.