Shall we talk about faux fur? Paris has finally dropped enough degrees for the subject to be decent again.
A wool coat can go unnoticed. Faux fur—never. It suggests money in the family, a scandal no one brings up at dinner, or, at the very least, a personality slightly more interesting than average. You put it on to stay warm and walk out with a story to tell.
This season, it changes identity depending on what you put around it: mob wife like Scorsese’s heroines, chic grandmother à la Margot Tenenbaum, impoverished Normandy châtelaine…
In France, what we love most is to contradict it: the most theatrical coat possible with jeans that have seen better days, a gray sweater, and hair that has clearly not crossed paths with a brush. The more the faux fur does, the less the rest of the outfit should look like it’s in on it.
The Mob Wife
Long before TikTok gave it a name, Karen Hill in Goodfellas, Ginger McKenna in Casino, and Carmela Soprano had understood the narrative power of a very big coat. Long, brown, black, or leopard and worn with sunglasses even when there’s no sun. To avoid looking like a costume, I wear it with straight-leg jeans, a white T-shirt, and loafers. No blow-dry, no sky-high heels, and no jewelry likely to get snatched on the metro.
The Stole
Technically, it isn’t a coat. Worn this way, it covers neither the arms nor the stomach nor anything genuinely useful, which guarantees it a place of honor in a fashion wardrobe. Seen on the Gucci F/W 26 runway, it brings back a very 1950s, deliciously decadent allure. Throw a long faux-fur scarf over a black dress, a men’s coat, or a denim jacket—above all, not too carefully.
The Coat Stolen From Your Grandmother
Then there’s a whole family of imitation mink, fox, and astrakhan. No animals were harmed, only the available space in your closet. These are the most interesting ones because they look like they lived before us. They recall Margot Tenenbaum in her Fendi thrown over a Lacoste polo dress. The French version is Madame de Foucault, the lady of the manor in your grandparents’ village in Normandy. With its faint imaginary whiff of mothballs, this one is among the musts of my winter. It has just enough authority that you don’t need to add anything but wide-leg jeans, a white T-shirt, and black boots. It already tells an entire lineage.
Touches at the Collar and Cuffs
For those who’d rather play it more discreetly, there are the details. A few centimeters of faux fur at the collar or cuffs is enough to unsettle a jacket that’s a little too well-behaved. On a leather jacket or a khaki one, a big brown collar instantly says Penny Lane in Almost Famous, a film character who has always inspired me. At the cuffs, it works on a very sober coat or a close-fitting cardigan.
The Long Black Coat
I’ve owned one for several seasons. It’s long, black, slightly dramatic, and the easiest to mix if you want to go incognito. This means it had already won before I’d even worn it. With worn-in jeans and black boots, it does all the work. In the evening over a slip dress, it works too, but I prefer it in broad daylight. There’s something of Marianne Faithfull about it, of a wealthy witch, of a Parisian you suspect has a car waiting for her, even as she heads down into the metro.
The Quiet Faux Leopard
Leopard has long suffered from an overly enthusiastic entourage: red lipstick, heels, a wide belt, a blowout. I prefer it in slightly muted colors, with imperfect spots and an almost classic cut—somewhere between Fran Fine in The Nanny and Kate Moss leaving a London pub, minus half the accessories. I treat it like a camel coat, wearing it with black, gray, or denim.
