For some reason, elegance is expected to wait for a special occasion. The right restaurant, the proper invitation, the sort of evening when nobody asks why you are so dressed up. As though looking exquisite on an otherwise unremarkable Tuesday were a minor but deeply satisfying offence.
You have long suspected that good taste has no need for a calendar.
Burgundy Symphony requires neither crystal glasses nor flattering twilight. The dusty wine shade carries itself with the dignity of a woman who could order champagne but chose coffee today. Cream lines and ruffles provide just enough good breeding to make breaking the rules much more enjoyable.
The tunic is lightweight, airy, slightly crisp and translucent in places. Its wide neckline can be shifted either way to bare one shoulder. The asymmetric hem slips away from a straight line, the sleeves refuse to match, and the ruffles appear wherever they please. Perfection seems to have stepped out for a moment and decided not to return.
Wear it back-to-front and the front and back exchange colors, cuts and ruffles. The same woman. The same burgundy. The conversation simply begins with a different line.
Good taste has a curious reputation: people mistake it for good behaviour far too often.