Coming from California I didn’t really have what you might traditionally call “winter”, so I used to get really excited when it would rain and get frosty enough to actually break out the sweaters, jackets, boots, scarves, hats and the rest, bundle up and revel in the cold.
Flash forward: Three Shanghai winters later, I’ve noticed something disturbing. It’s not that I don’t still get excited for the colder months. That’s not it at all. It’s just that it all get so damn boring so damn quickly. Oh, at first we all make an effort to coordinate the jackets with the boots with the ear muffs. Maybe we even go to the fabric market to get a new cashmere coat made. But then, like an ayi’s cleaning skills a few weeks after you’ve hired her, it all falls to hell. There’s no inspiration. You just can’t be bothered. And clearly, we’re in the middle of a drab-winter-clothes pandemic.
Look at this mess. A sea of puffy, shapeless coats, offensively hideous (fake) Ugg boots, mittens that have been worn too many times to be cute, shapeless, boring hats that interfere with a decent head of hair, and, to top it all off, a serious lack of color.
I hate to break it to everyone, but there are like, at least two more months of this shiz. So mix it up with a bright scarf! Belt an otherwise blobby jacket! Splash out on those fabulous purple leather gloves!
Or, at the very least, wear something divine underneath. It’s a long, cold and sometimes, cruel winter.
