“…the setting sun brushed the tiles, brought out the warm brown glow on the wallpaper, and hung the shadow of the birch on the wall as if it were a woman’s scarf.” // dr. zhivago / b. pasternak

it doesn’t take much to elevate a wardrobe.

no need for a hefty withdrawal of cash to revamp something that perhaps has come to bore you, into something that rather captivates you. if all else fails, like a mop of hair, my most beloved accessory is as meaningful to me as a large pair of dark specs behind an even darker tint of a car window.

as comforting as it is practical – my scarf collection serves as both a functional layering piece for weather that has become temperamental, as well as a useful barrier between myself and others. added to my bracelets aplenty, i’m forever wrapped up in a scarf – i find them to be the perfect combination of accessory-cum-protective barrier, working multiple jobs — hiding the second chin i possess when i look down, op-art trickery that draws your eye up; and, when i wear the black one with skulls all over it, i know i won’t be bothered by annoying outside forces.

if all else fails, i can unwrap it from my neck, pull it over me like a blanket and nap away my frets.





➝ source : my heart belongs to paris scarf via yazbukey

➝ source : waaghals wrap via humanoid

➝ source : tiri scarf via a peace treaty

➝ source : floral & paisley print scarf via stella mccartney


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