One of my daily reads is The Sartorialist, Scott Schuman's renowned street-fashion blog; I also read Garance Doré, his wife's gorgeously illustrated fashion blog. Together, they inevitably make me feel sartorially hopeless, but that's just a dose of reality. At least I'm wearing a perfectly good bathrobe as I read them. My robe, a pricey cranberry cotton velour wrapper with 1940s lapels, could indeed be Sartorialist-worthy on some other woman — someone very tall and thin, with a striking face and a trendy haircut. She might layer my robe over a metallic tank, a worn leather mini, boots with sky-high heels, a pork-pie hat, and a half-dozen necklaces. Maybe some morning, I'll open the Sartorialist and see my robe there, on a Manhattanista with a serious expression and a sidelong glance for Mr. Schuman.
Anyway, when I saw this morning's Sartorialist post, I practically dropped my toast with the peanut butter side down.
It was this stunning photo:
Naturally, I thought he had somehow discovered Possum. Those eyes, those scruffy whiskers, that fluffy ruff, that attitude.... who else could it be? I quickly scanned the page and found out that, no, it's actually a New York fashion designer, Yigal Azrouël. He's not Norwegian, but he still looks remarkably like Possum.
I should have known; The Sartorialist never hangs out in Boston. I suspect he's afraid he'd be overwhelmed by so many of our fashion-forward photo prospects that it would give him hives or a nervous breakdown. So he spends his time in less abundant locations like Manhattan and Paris.
Anyway, it's an astonishing resemblance, don't you think? (Possum is on the right.)