In 1861 a nineteen-year-old woman called Matilda Scheurer died in London, vomiting green water.
She made artificial leaves for a living, and the green she dusted them with was arsenic.
That green had a number. Every colour does. There are 16,777,216 of them exactly — three values from nought to 255, one byte each, a decision about memory chips made in the 1980s that we have all been living inside ever since.
Shades have been fought over, faked, taxed and killed for. Tyrian purple took twelve thousand murex snails to make 1.4 grams and was worth its weight in silver. Almost none of them were ever written down.
So we wrote all of them down. Every one of the 16,777,216, each with a value, a code and a place on a public registry. Each can be held once and once only, and once it is held it is closed.
Some are already spoken for by history and we have marked them so. Some cannot be printed at all — they exist on a screen and nowhere else — and we say which. There is a range beyond what ink can reach that you can look at but never hold in your hand.
This is a registry we keep, not a standards body, and it confers no rights on anybody. It is a record: a colour, a name, a date, kept permanently and searchable by anyone.
We sell the certificates. That is how it is paid for. If you only want to look up a shade and see whether it is still free, that costs nothing and always will.
Most people who stay end up putting somebody’s name on one.
There is no colour named after your mother.
There are 16,777,216 of them, and not one carries her name.
That number is exact. Every colour a screen can show is three numbers — how much red, how much green, how much blue — and each one runs from nought to 255. Two hundred and fifty-six, three times over. Sixteen point seven million, and no more than that, ever.
We have written all of them down. Each one can be held once and once only.
You will know the colour. It is almost never the one you would expect — people arrive looking for the blue of a favourite coat, the green of a kitchen door, the exact grey-gold of a beach in February.
You choose it, you name it, and it is entered on a public registry in her name — with the date, the exact value, and a number. Then it is closed. Nobody else can be given that colour, because there is only one of it.
If you have a photograph, you can take the colour directly from it. Most people do. It is the difference between a colour that is close and a colour that is right.
This is a private registry, not a legal one. Registering a colour confers no rights over it — nobody can stop anyone else using that shade, and we would not pretend otherwise. What it is, is a permanent, dated, public record with her name on it, kept by us and searchable by anyone.
One practical thing, because it matters here. The printed certificate is made to order in England: 1 to 2 working days within the UK, 6 to 7 to North America, 12 to 15 to Australia. If you need something for a service in the next few days, the electronic certificate is ready within minutes and prints anywhere. We post the permanent one to follow.
A colour, her name, and the date. That is all it is.
She will be given a name today, and about four hundred other babies will be given the same one.
There are 16,777,216 colours. Each one can be held once.
That is not an estimate — every colour a screen can show is three numbers from nought to 255, so the total is 256 × 256 × 256 and nothing else.
We have written all of them down. Register one in her name and it is hers. Not shared with four hundred others. Not shared with anyone.
It takes about two minutes. Choose the colour — from the wheel, or lifted straight out of a photograph if there is one you already love — give it a name, and it goes onto a public registry with her name, the date, the exact value and a registration number.
The date is the part people come back for. It is on the certificate, and it does not move. In eighteen years it will still say the day she arrived.
It also solves a small and genuine problem: it is a present for the baby rather than a present for the parents, and it is not another thing to find space for.
It is a private registry and it gives nobody legal ownership of a colour. Anyone can still paint a wall that shade. What she has is a dated public record in her name, permanently, and the certificate that says so.
Also worth knowing: screens make colour with light and paper makes it by reflecting light, so a printed certificate is very close but never identical. Deep and soft shades print almost exactly. The most electric ones come out a little gentler. We say so before you buy, on the colour itself.
Her name, her colour, and the day she arrived.
You already know their colour.
Most people do, and they are usually surprised by how quickly it comes to them.
There are 16,777,216 of them and each one can be held once. Not one of them is named after the person you are thinking of.
That is arithmetic, not marketing: three numbers, nought to 255, 256 × 256 × 256. There are no more than that and there never will be.
The colour is rarely the obvious one. It is the green of the jumper they wore the whole of one winter, or the particular blue of a door in a town you both know. If you have a photograph, take it straight from that — hold the disc over the shade and it is exact.
Then it is named, dated and entered on a public registry, and closed. The certificate says what the colour is, who it belongs to, and that it is held in perpetuity.
There is room on it for something in your own words. Most people use it. It is the part they read first.
This is a private registry. It gives nobody legal rights over a colour and we will not pretend it does — anyone may still use that shade for anything. What it gives is a permanent public record, in their name, that did not exist before and cannot be given to anyone else.
If it turns out to be the wrong colour, you have sixty days to change it, free, as often as you like.
Their name, on a colour nobody else can be given.
The first eight registrations, and the sheets that went out.
Every one is on the register, and can be looked up by its number.
You can take it straight from a photograph.
Your picture
Your picture stays on your device. We only receive it if you order a printed certificate with your photograph on it. It is never shown on the registry, never published anywhere, and deleted once the free-change period ends.
Name your colour and personalise
Everything in this section appears on the certificate exactly as you type it.
Your A4 Certificate
You can't pick one by accident. The wheel will not come to rest on a shade that has been taken or reserved — land on one and it moves to the nearest free shade automatically, by an amount no eye could detect.
So you are never told the shade you wanted has gone. If the wheel settles there, it's yours.
We understand. Simply tell us within 30 days and we'll move the registration to a different colour, free of charge. The name can change too if required. Changes subject to availability. Once per registration.
It'll be close, and for most colours very close. But a screen makes colour by emitting light, and paper makes it by reflecting light — so print can't quite reach the most electric shades. Deep, soft and earthy colours print almost perfectly; neon-bright ones come out a little gentler.
Your hex code is the permanent record either way. The print is its physical form, not a replacement for it.
16,777,216. We register each value once and once only, which is why nobody can ever be given the same colour twice.
No, this is a novelty gift and a public registry that we maintain. It carries no legal or scientific standing, and it doesn't affect trademarks, Pantone references or anything else. What it is: a permanent, searchable public record with their name on it, and a lovely certificate. The entry can be anonymous, if preferred.
Every registration carries a five-character code, which is what makes it unique — so two people can both choose Rosie's Autumn Gold and each has their own. At checkout you can pay to drop the code and hold the bare name instead, but only if nobody has taken it. There is exactly one of each, so it goes to whoever asks first.
We colour-manage every print, but paper reflects light where a screen emits it, so it will never be an exact copy of what you see on screen. The registration itself is exact and never changes. If you are unhappy with the colour received, notify us within 30 days and you may select a different colour which we will print at no charge. Subject to availability. Once per registration.
Yes, and that's deliberate. Every registration can be identified with a five-character code — so one shade might be Rosie's Autumn Gold (F2K9M) and another Rosie's Autumn Gold (4TB7X), and one single Rosie's Autumn Gold with no code visible. The code is what's unique; the name is yours to choose freely. It means you're never told the name you wanted has gone.
If this is important to you, longer names are far more likely to be unique. Rosie's Sunny Autumn Gold is much more likely to be the only one than Rosie's Autumn Gold.
Absolutely, it's a lovely tribute. If you'd like the certificate worded differently or sent to multiple people, contact us after ordering and we'll assist however we can at no extra charge.
We copy you in on everything we send, so you always have your own record of it.
Your receipt comes separately, to you only. It never reaches them.
We aim to send within three working days, and always within thirty.
The address itself, with or without www. — no page, no tracking, nothing after the domain. Listed as plain text, not a link.
Questions or need assistance? Email us at Support@InternationalColorRegistry.com. We are a small company, we employ real people, we want to help, and we will get back to you as soon as is practical.
Every registration is recorded here permanently, and each one has its own page.
Every colour recorded here, and every one still unclaimed.
Try #4A6B6A · 70,139,170 · a shade name · a registrant · or a colour nobody has taken yet
Write to Support@InternationalColourRegistry.com and tell us the reference number of the entry — it is on the entry page and on the certificate.
If the entry is yours, send the message from the email address the order was placed with, or quote the order reference. We will take it off the public register. Removing an entry does not refund it, and the colour is not released for anybody else to register.
If it is somebody else’s, tell us which entry and what the problem is — a name that should not be there, a trade mark, or anything else. Say who you are and what your connection is. We read every one and reply.
Removing an entry takes it off the public register. It does not erase the fact that a registration was made, because our accounts and our own records have to be kept. Nothing about a removed entry appears in this database or in a search.
An example of a finished certificate.
Certificates we have printed and posted. Yours is not shown anywhere unless you ask for it to be.