The time has come to dig out my winter coat. It’s a shortish, greeny-blue, faux-fur number and I have had it for five years. When it is cold I want to sleep wearing it, and I hate taking it off once indoors. It becomes second skin from November until March. Winter is a sartorially fun season – lots of layering, fabrics, accessories and jewels – and it’s easier to up the glamour stakes. My rules are: the fluffier, bigger, warmer and cosier the item the happier I feel. I love the Film Noir Femmes who enter a room dripping in fur and pearls and hats and carrying a muff (no sniggering at the back). Luxuriant, indulgent, decadent. In my head I resemble Joan Crawford in Mildred Pierce, but in reality I’m Jane Lane.
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