basement fluorescent, wet concrete and soap
That film's grade is famously unwell - everything pushed toward a green-grey that makes skin look wrong and concrete look damp. It is a colour with no warmth in it at all, and used carefully it is genuinely restful, because nothing in it is asking for anything.
The dials are deliberately low in saturation, closer to wet stone than to anything growing. The one exception is the soap pink on the buttons: the single manufactured, slightly absurd colour in a world of basements. It is the joke of the film in one swatch.
This is the most desaturated theme in the set and it stays that way on purpose. Everything is a shade of the same tired green except the controls. Glass is neutral, type is untouched, and nothing moves. It is a theme for a room where the light has been on too long.
For focused work at odd hours. For anyone who finds bright interfaces exhausting and wants something that recedes almost entirely. And for the countdown you have not told anyone about.
An EverBox palette for countdowns, timers and shared spaces. Every dial sits in the same washed grey-green, on a ground that is almost black. The controls take a bruised pink, which is the only warm thing here.
Four dials rising through a sickly green: the year the grey-green of damp plaster, the month an army fatigue, the day the green of old lino under strip light, and the hour a pale dried sage. The ground is near-black with green in it, the panels barely lighter. The controls take a washed pink — skin, or something that has recently been hit.