Black has always been my favorite "color." I discovered this in elementary school, when we made "art" that was created by coloring a picture hard in crayon, then washing the paper with black water color paint. Funny, I never wore black clothes until college, and I guess it's just as well I grew up in the pre-goth era.
In my practice room I have our old dining room table, which has a black granite top. Upon that I have a lamp with a black, wooden base and a black lampshade. I have two of the dining-room chairs, which are cherry wood with black microfiber cushions. (Don't worry, the rest of the room is monochromatic beige, so the effect is sophisticated rather than overwhelming. In my opinion.)
Recently I threw my black soft-cover cello case on top of the table, just to get it off the floor, and as usual it's remained there a lot longer than it should. And yesterday I discovered that this forms one of Madeleine's current favorite chillin' spots. She seems to enjoy listening to me practicing Bach on the piano. Tough to spot her at first, though, all that black on black on black.