I cannot think of any occasion during my bra-wearing life when I searched for a label telling me in teeny tiny print, what the manufacturer had chosen to call the colour I had selected. This really smacks to me of ‘quick, let me find something I can complain about’. I have seen clothes in glossy magazines described as tobacco coloured, usually when worn with a wax jacket, along side a well polished pair of brogues which put me off, not because of any racial prejudice, but because I would have been reminded of an old ash tray