A few weeks ago, the world of science was shaken by a new discovery—a colour no one else has seen before and only a select few can see even now, or, according to the journal Science Advances, “a color beyond the natural human gamut”.
For those not hooked on the news cycle, the colour was discovered by researchers from the US who had laser pulses fired into their own eyes. While stimulating specific cells in the retina, they claimed to have witnessed a blue-green colour that scientists have called ‘olo’. To add to the intrigue, one of the participants described it as “more saturated than any colour that you can see in the real world”. And since it’s not every day that we wake up to a new colour, the fashion industry is contemplating its stance. After all, what does a colour only a few can see mean in our image-centric world?
Leatrice Eiseman, executive director of the Pantone Color Institute, suggests that novelty will be the first major selling point. “Any news of a ‘new’ colour always starts a conversation, as people are generally fascinated with the subject. Identifying this particular one is a challenge as only five people have actually had the experience of seeing it, and enlisting more people, for various reasons, is a real challenge. However, it has been identified as a teal blue-green, and that is somewhat a clue. As there is a buzz about the hue, we can expect that the fashion industry will jump on it, each designer or manufacturer giving their own version of some sort of a tealish blue green.”
As if to reiterate Eisman’s point, soon after the announcement, my own phone was pinging with forwards and press releases sharing the news of the cryptic colour. My dad, otherwise a novice in the fashion-verse, was the first to chip in on the family group chat, prompted by the scientific aspects of the discovery. That’s how I knew: this must be important. But while smart marketing always helps, right now it’s about giving enough people access.
Clare Smith, senior colour strategist at trend forecaster WGSN, insists that we view olo (ironic, I know) from a strictly scientific perspective, emphasising that “turning mainstream is unlikely because it’s currently only visible to those undergoing specific retinal stimulation”. Kaustav Sengupta, associate professor at NIFT, has similar doubts about its potential role in fashion, arguing, “I do not consider olo a colour but rather an artificially generated mental stimulation. It has nothing to do with clothing because the stimulation of fabric colour is not equivalent to lasers and cannot impact specific cone cells. Let’s remember that the process requires operational setup and precision and that cannot be achieved en masse, say, in a fashion show. The process is selective and may be good to consider for medical experimentation instead.”
Could the colour’s inaccessibility, however, catapult it into the exclusive zone of quiet luxury, where covert branding is the norm? Also, an unintended prerequisite given olo’s IYKYK status? Fashion designer Mayyur Girotra, who views this as a unique sartorial gap in the market instead of a roadblock, shares, “In an era where ‘quiet luxury’ is no longer about beige minimalism but about owning something rare, this is an opportunity for new luxury brands to lead with innovation and create a signature shade that’s not rooted in nostalgia but in discovery. It’s an enigmatic luxury that could be soft-spoken but also unforgettable, if done right.”
Girotra particularly sees potential for this in the bridal market, where trend cycles are often driven by colour. Remember when everyone was a pastel bride, or earlier this year when sage green was the hottest colour for a walk down the aisle? “Olo might just be the perfect metaphor for a new chapter that is something sacred, unseen, and luminous. A colour that doesn’t just make a statement, but starts a possible conversation,” he reasons. “Olo, with its otherworldly depth, could symbolise a bride stepping into uncharted territory.”
Although seeing this colour is an experience in itself, the wider implications remain in a somewhat grey area, with the new generation and luxury brands still to define their views on it. Smith, who sits somewhere on the fence, lets us in on the latest discoveries at WGSN that form a reference point to better comprehend the future of olo. “Something we have been tracking is the growing importance of highly saturated colours, which have been growing in significance due to the younger generation and how they are adopting synthetic creativity, psychedelics, and digital brights. This was prevalent in our spring/summer 2026 key colour Jelly Mint—a buoyant hue with a youthful quality that embraces all things kidult and celebrates glimmers, as in micro-moments of joy. Although it [Jelly Mint] doesn’t directly link to olo, the saturation and colour level feels reminiscent of where olo could go in fashion design.”
Sengupta recalls another recent colour discovery—artist Anish Kapoor’s Vantablack, to which Kapoor secured exclusive rights in 2014 and which was touted to be “the blackest material in the universe, blacker than a black hole. It absorbs 99.8 percent of all light”. The conversations around the colour alternated between comedy and high art, and so many years later its usage is still limited to the art world.
Drawing from the experiential nature of olo, it’s hard to imagine the debut of the colour on the ramp, where visibility reigns supreme. Girotra sees the situation a bit differently. “Fashion shows are no longer just about clothes; they’re about immersion. Olo lends itself beautifully to that. For designers, it’s not just a colour, it’s a narrative tool.”
Eiseman, who has authored 10 books on colour, adds to the optimism reflecting on the assumed malleability of olo. “I refer to it as a “crossover colour” because it has visual appeal and great versatility,” she asserts.
Even so, Girotra gently reminds us of its slightly inflexible demeanour. “You can’t just ‘pair’ it like a regular colour. It needs to be composed around. It could completely shift how we build collections. Storytelling becomes less linear and it asks us to create something that hasn’t existed before.”
Do these notions qualify olo as a landmark discovery, then—that once-in-a-lifetime event akin to celestial and astrological movements? Or will we soon be entering a world where only a lucky few can see the emperor in his new green-blue clothes?