What does your car colour say about you

Contemplated buying a new car the other day. Thought, if I can't have a new house, I'll have a new car.
Went to see Bob at the dealership, and he lived up to expectations.
Test drove a new Yaris, with my sister and my son, and it was bland but satisfactory and within budget.
In answer to Bob's question about how soon I might be in the market, I said I was waiting to see what happened on Thursday (the deadline day for house sale), but he, somewhat quaintly, assumed I was waiting for my "settlement". That made me smile. I suppose the world does need stereotypes to keep it ticking over, to keep the natural order of things. There was a time when such an assumption would have ruffled my feathers, but maybe I've moulted one too many times since then.
Anyway, with the issues of hatch/sedan, three doors or five, and optional airbags and cruise control decided, colour remains the pressing concern.
After a burnt orange start (I loved that '79 Escort), I've owned two white cars, and driven an assortment of husband's cars in mostly steel grey (with a moment of madness in a brilliant blue, and a second hand chocolate brown pie van).
The caryard brings some of the colour chart options to life; a steel grey (called graphite), a pearly blue (called glacier), a brighter blue (called Caribbean blue, now you're talking) and a bedazzling pinky-red (called Cosmpolitan, oh yeh!!).
I'm drawn like a moth to the flaming pink, but wonder if it sends the wrong message (what message am I sending??) Does it look like I work for Mary Kay? My sister suggests kindly, with a pat on the arm, it's a car you might give your daughter for her 18th birthday. Mmm, mutton is not the message. But it is vibrant! Am I sufficiently vibrant to carry it off?
My son is drawn to the glacier, but I feel it might be a nanna car.
My sister is drawn to Caribbean, but I feel it might be a try-hard car.
The cherry red is also on display, but good lord, a red car? I don't know what that says, but I don't want to say it.
There's a sort of teal green (called celestial blue) which my daughter, later, says she likes a lot, but my niece says would require frangipani stickers.
So we're left with white (not again), silver pearl (shoot me now) green potion (which sounds exciting but is actually a washed-out grey-green insipid looking thing), or ink (black, just too hot).
So, if I haven't got the bottle for Cosmopolitan (and let's face it, I might feel mighty silly after a little bit), I'm probably back at graphite.
I like the word graphite. It's solid, and reliable, resourceful. But is that because it reminds me of my husband?
Graphite is certainly not as safe and sensible as white or one of the pale pearls. And it's not likely to become embarrassing in the years/months/days to come. Plus, the children will be less likely to want to borrow it when the time comes.
Graphite it is. What a shame they don't make aubergine.