You have long since lost any need to be understood at first glance. First impressions are overrated anyway: they are usually formed by people who lacked the patience for a second one. You know how to be liked instantly, but you have not considered it your duty for quite some time.
You do not tell everything about yourself at once. One does not hand the full edition to every passer-by.
The skin-beige mohair almost melts into you — semi-transparent, warm, and so light that it feels as though warmth itself had been knitted out of air. It stays with you without asking for spectators’ approval. True luxury rarely needs witnesses.
The blue-green wave is denser, yet just as soft. It moves across the sweater asymmetrically, changing the lines of the sleeves and the long edge, turning deep blue in one place and almost emerald in another. At times there is a barely visible glimmer in the yarn. Not everyone will notice it, but that is hardly a loss: much of what catches the eye inspires an immediate wish to throw it back.
It is much the same with you. The attentive notice softness. The rest, for some reason, see character first. Perhaps character simply stands closer.
Before going out, you can wear the sweater back to front. The wave will fall differently; the proportions and the long edge will change. Repetition only makes sense when someone is calling you back for an encore.
On the street, heads turn not because of a loud colour or any visible effort to please. You made no effort at all. That, presumably, is the most irritating part for those who try much too obviously.
You do not check who turned around. A woman who knows the value of attention never counts it by heads. Besides, you have somewhere to go. Other people’s glances have only a direction behind you.