A watercolor brush lies across a small speckled bowl of blue paint water, next to cream paper cards painted with blue, rose and ochre marks and a fold of berry cloth.

Hi, I'm Ximena.

Ximena sits on the grass in a cobalt blue sweatshirt, light blue jeans and white sneakers, with dark hair, bangs and dark-rimmed glasses.

I'm a Deep Winter, and it took me a second thesis to find out.

I've loved clothes and styling since I was little.

Then came a few years when I was heavier and wanted to be looked at as little as possible. Black and white did that for me. They went with everything and asked nothing.

My body changed again, and that's a story for another day. What matters here is what came after: I opened my closet and nothing in it felt like me. I could tell my friends which colors suited them.

I couldn't tell you mine.

The apps were free and fast, and each one gave me a different season. People told me A one week and B the next.

So I paid for a real session. I'd been curious about color for years and I walked in hoping to learn something new. I walked out with a season and a fan of swatches. No why, and nothing about what to look for in a store. That's when I saw how basic a lot of these services are, and I wanted to give more than that.

Ximena in a navy blazer over a white shirt and light blue jeans, a black leather bag on her shoulder, against a pale gray wall. — Corporate era: navy, white and denim.

Meanwhile I'd finished a corporate degree and started working. I'd graduated, and I still looked like the intern. People didn't take me seriously, and honestly, I didn't take myself seriously either. On the days I looked sure of myself, people spoke to me differently. So did I.

So I did what I know how to do. I researched it like a second thesis: the old color systems, stylists' notes, what the studies say and what they don't, and a lot of afternoons at my window with a gray strip and my own closet.

Ximena sits cross-legged on a navy sofa in a burgundy tee, sorting fabric swatches in green, cream, terracotta and denim blue, with a cobalt mug on the table. — Sorting swatches at home.

Then I tested it on my family. My mom and I share a face, not a palette. She's an Autumn. I'm a Deep Winter. I helped a few relatives, then friends, and my friends are the ones who kept saying: put this online.

I've had a coquette era, a corporate era and a boho era, and my colors came with me through all of them. A palette is a tool, not a uniform. You get to be more than one thing.

Black was where I hid.

It's still in my closet. It just isn't all there is.

Ximena walks down a garden path in a long dark green dress with black floral embroidery and black ankle boots, her hair in a side braid. — Boho era, in a deep green.

Here's what I believe: when you like what you see, you treat yourself better. You invest in yourself, and you go for more. Your colors work at the size you are today, the age you are today, in the job you have today.

Palette Girlies is what I wish I'd had: a test you do at your window, notes for every skin depth, and the exact shades to look for. You don't need a second thesis. You can borrow mine.

I amThe friend who reads depth, clarity, temperature and contrast, and flags tradition and myth.
I am notA certified color analyst. I don't promise precision a mirror can't give.

No photo, ever. The test runs on your device and nothing about you is uploaded.

Why, and how solid
Why: a camera changes your color before anyone reads it, and your face is yours.

Our policy
No "I tried" next to a link. Picks are chosen by color for your season, not reviews from use.

Why, and how solid
Why: a swatch on one person tells you little about another, and a pick chosen by color is more honest than a vague "I love this."

Our policy

Questions or corrections: [email protected]. If I got something wrong, I fix it.

Take the free test

The seals and the method, in full

Bijou, a Siamese cat in a dusty pink beret and bow, holds up a berry red lipstick.

that coral reads loud.

Nube, a white Pomeranian with a pink-dyed tail, jumps.

but on your lips it works.

Who Bijou and Nube are, and what they never do

Bijou A Siamese cat in a pink beret. She gives the verdict, in six words or fewer, and only about colors.
Nube A white Pomeranian with a pink-dyed tail. Her name is Spanish for cloud, and she shows up after Bijou's no with the way out.

They never comment on your skin, your body or your budget, and they stay away from prices and policies.