Frost & Found: The Surprisingly Sophisticated Paint Palette Of The North Pole
Photo by Shawna Lay on Unsplash
For centuries, the North Pole has been dismissed as a place of pure whimsy—gingerbread façades, toy-making chaos, and icicles that function as both architecture and hazard. But look closely (ideally with a warm drink in hand), and you’ll notice something unexpected: the North Pole is, in its own chilly way, a masterclass in interior design.
Contrary to popular belief, Santa does not choose the color palette. He is too busy maintaining the annual logistics schedule and arguing with reindeer about PTO. The true aesthetic authority is Mrs. Claus, whose design influence is so pervasive that even the aurora borealis has been rumored to shift hues to match her seasonal palettes. The elves play a role, of course, though their creativity is often… exuberant. Mrs. Claus’s job is to channel that energy into something visually coherent.
Below is a rare look into the highly curated world of Polar Design—where tradition meets trend, and where the HVAC is always set to Arctic “brisk.”
The Primary Problem: Endless Snowlight
Winter lighting is challenging enough in Fairfield County, but imagine a place where the sun appears for three and a half minutes a day, skims along the horizon, and then immediately clocks out.
Inside Santa’s compound, paint must compete with:
reflective snow glare
zero-angle daylight
the unpredictable flicker of workshop machinery
the aurora, which acts like a cosmic dimmer switch with attitude
This is why Mrs. Claus avoids true whites. “Too much bounce,” she says, waving off another ultra-bright trim sample. “We don’t need the dining room to function like a lighthouse.”
Instead, she prefers soft neutrals with a subtle warmth—tones that radiate a gentle glow under lantern light and don’t make the elves appear translucent during performance reviews.
The Myth of Red-and-Green Everything
A disappointing truth: the North Pole does not actually use red and green wall-to-wall. Mrs. Claus calls that “Theme Fatigue.” Only Santa’s office uses the traditional palette, partly because he likes it and partly because tradition matters when you manage an enterprise older than the postal system.
Most of the residence, however, features:
sage greens
cranberry-adjacent reds
deep berry hues
winter blues softened with a drop of gray
Mrs. Claus once allowed a peppermint-striped accent wall in the Elves’ Rec Room. It lasted ten minutes before someone complained of dizziness and another elf tried to lick it.
A Surprising Love for Benjamin Moore
Paint brand selection is a closely guarded secret, but reliable sources (an elf with access to shipping logs) confirm that the Claus household is partial to Benjamin Moore.
Why?
“Durability,” Mrs. Claus says, tapping the wall. “Elves are not gentle creatures.”
She prefers the Aura line for its color depth, especially in rooms with low light. Santa’s workshop—where walls endure sawdust, flying wooden train parts, and the occasional cocoa spill—gets Regal Select in eggshell, a sheen chosen for its wipe-ability.
There were attempts to try Farrow & Ball, but the elves incorrectly assumed “Estate Emulsion” meant “snack.” That experiment ended quickly.
The Great Debate: Workshop Blues vs. Toyland Teals
Elves are deeply divided in taste. Modernist Elves prefer cool, Scandinavian-inspired palettes—icy blues, muted greens, and the occasional black accent that makes visitors whisper, “Is this… chic?”
Traditionalist Elves, however, insist that the workshop maintain a palette reminiscent of “storybook nostalgia,” which translates loosely to: “Colors bright enough to be visible from orbit.”
To settle the dispute, Mrs. Claus established a color council. They meet annually and choose three hues that become the workshop’s “Seasonal Toymaking Palette.” The colors are then applied to walls, bins, shelving, and morale-boosting signage (“No Toy Left Behind,” “Block Out Distractions”).
This year’s winners reportedly include:
Snowdrift Blue
Gingerbread Umber
Industrious Elf Green
Sherwin-Williams has yet to comment.
Santa’s Bedroom: The Anti-Holiday Sanctuary
Perhaps the most surprising room in the North Pole is Santa’s bedroom. After a lifetime of candy-cane chaos, he prefers a palette that does not include a single festive hue. Mrs. Claus chose a deep slate blue for the walls, soft cream for the trim, and wool-gray bedding—an aesthetic she calls “Restful Lumberjack.”
It works. Visitors report feeling unexpectedly calm within ten seconds.
Texture Matters When Everything Is Frozen
Paint is only one part of the North Pole’s design story. Texture is where Mrs. Claus truly excels.
Because the climate is unreasonably cold 364 days per year (the one exception being “Thaw Day,” which lasts 90 minutes), she layers surfaces with:
hand-loomed textiles
pinewood accents
stone hearths
brushed brass hardware (warm, but indestructible)
fur-lined chair cushions (synthetic—she’s not a monster)
These choices ensure that despite the temperatures, the home feels warm, grounded, and remarkably inviting. Almost like a Scandinavian chalet with a strong interior design department.
The North Pole’s Paint Rules (Enforced Kindly but Firmly)
Mrs. Claus’s standards are legendary. Her most famous guidelines include:
No high-gloss finishes. “We don’t need to see our reflections at that angle. It’s unflattering.”
Test every color under lamplight and aurora light.
Avoid anything described as “icy,” “frost,” or “polar.” Too on-the-nose.
Absolutely no glitter paint. (This rule was created after one catastrophic incident in 1983.)
The elves comply…
Mostly.
Residential Trends We Might Steal
As whimsical as it sounds, the North Pole has some genuinely smart design lessons:
Low, diffused winter light loves cool tones softened with gray.
Warm neutrals on trim can ground a crisp palette.
Matte finishes create a calming, velvety feel in rooms that rely on lamps.
Festive does not require literal colors—undertones do more subtle work.
There is a quiet sophistication threaded through Mrs. Claus’s choices. Even in a place built on tradition, magic, and a questionable understanding of workplace safety, the design language feels intentional.
A Final Word from the First Lady of the Arctic
When asked why she puts so much effort into paint and design, Mrs. Claus reportedly smiles and says:
“Because everyone deserves to come home to a place that feels warm—even if it’s cold outside. And because elves have no sense of restraint, someone has to keep this tasteful.”
A reminder, perhaps, that great design isn’t seasonal; it’s a kind of hospitality.
Even at the top of the world.