On long car trips Mark and I used to amuse ourselves by inventing new color names for clothing catalogs. (This was a separate endeavor from our development of "J. Crew, the movie," which I'll leave for another day.) The colors had to sound almost plausible, which wasn't hard, since names like "blueberry" and "toast" and "mediterranean" were common in late-eighties/early-nineties catalogs. "Mouse" and "Calamine" are two I remember.
Today I read that writer and artist Robin Strober has taken this fascination with color names a step further. She composes collections of paint chips as a poetic evocation of a particular subject, arranging the found language of names between layers of lucite.