Wedding panic brings bold color choice.

The wedding was just 10 days away when I had the mad idea to host the rehearsal dinner at DC’s and my new house instead of at a restaurant.

Family and friends were flying in from five states, and as I tallied the guest list for the wedding-eve get together, it topped 20.

“Let’s host the party here,” I said to DC. “It would be simpler, less expensive, and more fun for everyone.”

“Won’t that be a lot of trouble?” he asked.

“We’ll have the barbecue restaurant cater. Easy shmeasy.”

“Are you up for hosting a dinner party the day before the wedding? Won’t you be having your nails done or something?”

Among the many reasons I love DC is his utter reasonableness.

“We’ll be fine,” I said, waving my hand as if batting a gnat. “I love to entertain.”

Soon, the reality of what I had done set in. I looked around our new house, which DC and I had only started to pull together, and panicked. The most important people in our combined lives were about to see our home for the first time, and it wasn’t ready! I wasn’t ready!

Suddenly I start scurrying around like Lucille Ball on roller skates. I texted my best friend Susan, who lives halfway across the country and who confers with me on all matters of home design: “I have a design job for you. Help me find an accent rug to go under the cocktail table.”

We had previously agreed that whatever went under this glass table would inspire the design direction for the whole house.

Within minutes she was peppering me with links to rugs, and I was responding:

“Too gray.” “Too ethnic.” “Too busy.”

She kept pushing for one peacock-motif rug that I kept rejecting, a textured blend of blues and greens on a cream background.

“It’s too obvious,” I said. “I’m picturing something subtler.”

“You want a statement,” she said.

“I don’t have any deep blue or green in my home.” “The rug speaks to me.” “It speaks to me, too,” I said. “It says, ‘I don’t fit in your home!’” “Try it.” The rug arrived two days later. I put it under the coffee table where it was so loud I had to leave the house. If color were noise, this was an Iron Maiden concert.

I texted pictures to Susan.

“Okay,” she’s on the phone in seconds. “The rug is gorgeous.”

“I love the rug, but it doesn’t go. It upstages the whole house.” “Make it go.” “It will take a lot to tie it in — pillows, art, accessories.”

“So?” “In case you forgot, I’m getting married in a week. I can’t pull this off in time.”

“Why not?” her voice sagged with disappointment.

“Okay,” I said. “What do we need to do?”

Next, I’m in a frenzy buying blue throw pillows and green accents, trying to make this rug, which has taken on the life of a family pet, belong.

Two days later I’m on the phone with Susan. “It isn’t working. The rug’s going back. The colors overpower.”

She’s quiet, as if I just told her I were dying or something.

Then, just as I was about to roll up the rug for good, I had a thought so scary I almost couldn’t say it. “I have an idea,” I whisper. “What if I paint the dining room next door a deep-sea blue to balance out the rug?” “Oooooo,” she said. I was afraid of that. My already high levels of adrenaline tripled. I torpedo to the paint store, bring home half a dozen navy paint swatches, put them alongside my other paint colors and that instigator rug, then superhumanly compress a twoweek color-selecting process into 10 minutes, and call Bob, our painter, who, being a married man, grasps the importance of this absurd situation, picks up on my derangement, and rearranges his schedule to start painting the dining room Sherwin-Williams Bunglehouse Blue the next day, five days before the wedding, all because of Susan.

While he was at it, I had him paint DC’s man cave and the laundry room Sherwin-Williams Sheraton Sage to tie in the rug’s green.

So much for simpler and cheaper. But the courageous blue made the house and rug click.

I sent pictures to Susan, who called it “a stroke of genius.”

“You’d better say that,” I said.

Wedding-eve night, the

place was party ready.

Afterward, I sent photos to Sue Wadden, director of color marketing for Sherwin-Williams, who heartily agreed. “Nicely done!” she said. “Bunglehouse Blue is one of my all-time favorite colors.”

“Phew!” I said. “I was sweating.”

“You are definitely taking a risk when you go with a deep color, but when it works, like it does here, the payoff is so much more rewarding,” said Wadden, who offered the following tips for choosing a dramatic color:

Consider your trim.

Stronger colors work best against a light trim, said Wadden. In my case the deep blue was against white wainscoting and plantation shutters. If you have dark trim, and dark furniture, go lighter on the walls.

Factor in the light.

Darker colors work better in rooms with a lot of natural light. Best to avoid dark colors in windowless rooms.

Choose your dark well.

Some darker colors, like navy or khaki, function as neutrals, said Wadden. They become great anchor colors and go well with many other colors. Colors like deep fuchsia or emerald are trickier.

Check the map. In general, the closer you live to the equator, the bolder you can be with color. They can be spicier, brighter, more lively and robust. Closer to the north pole, colors get more muted, veering toward beige, taupe, and gray. Think Hawaiian hibiscus and Boston tweed.

Cultivate a feeling.

Darker wall colors make rooms feel more intimate. Lighter colors create an airier feeling. “Having a deep color on the walls feels like a hug,” said Wadden. Syndicated columnist Marni Jameson is the author of two home and lifestyle books, and the newly released “Downsizing the Family Home – What to Save, What to Let Go” (Sterling Publishing 2016).