During a trip to Paris for fashion week in February, I wore all black ensembles: severe suits by Thierry Mugler, pressed pants by Miu Miu, and a forties fur coat from Poshmark that I was told was made of bear. Most importantly, I covered my head in a Wolford scarf that doubled as a vest-like body wrap. It kept me warm, or at least warmer than I would have been, and it kept my obnoxiously bright blonde hair hidden. In that shawl, I felt as if I were cocooned in a trend-neutral zone—if wearing a normcore version of Diane Pernet’s funeral-inspired shade would prevent me from becoming a fashion victim, regardless of the fact that hoods were all over the runways last season.
all black everything
all black everything
all black everything
During a trip to Paris for fashion week in February, I wore all black ensembles: severe suits by Thierry Mugler, pressed pants by Miu Miu, and a forties fur coat from Poshmark that I was told was made of bear. Most importantly, I covered my head in a Wolford scarf that doubled as a vest-like body wrap. It kept me warm, or at least warmer than I would have been, and it kept my obnoxiously bright blonde hair hidden. In that shawl, I felt as if I were cocooned in a trend-neutral zone—if wearing a normcore version of Diane Pernet’s funeral-inspired shade would prevent me from becoming a fashion victim, regardless of the fact that hoods were all over the runways last season.