Parisian Dogs Already Wear Coats, Booties, and Sometimes Bows. The Halloween Costume Is Just a Style Commitment.
PARIS — The dressed Parisian dog is not a novelty. It is the baseline. The small dog in the coat is the standard operating configuration of Paris’s canine population between October and April, and the coat is typically from a brand that also makes human coats, selected to coordinate with the owner’s palette in a way that is either deliberate or has achieved a level of subconsciousness that is beyond the reach of most human relationships. Against this backdrop, the Halloween pet costume is not a dramatic statement. It is an incremental step along a continuum that Paris has always occupied.
The Costume as Statement
Paris pet costume culture reflects Paris fashion culture: it is pursued by those who pursue it with complete commitment and regarded by those who don’t with neither judgment nor particular interest. The small dog dressed as Napoleon (annually, near the Invalides, photogenic and presumably intentional) generates tourism photography and mild applause. The cat dressed as a croissant, photographed and posted by its owner to an audience of 40,000 Instagram followers who follow this cat specifically, represents a content economy built on the understanding that Paris, cats, and croissants are three things the internet never tires of in combination. According to the 30 Millions d’Amis Foundation, France’s largest animal welfare organisation, pet spending including accessories has grown 12% annually for five consecutive years. Some percentage of this is costumes. The percentage is not broken out in the report. The foundation considers other categories more significant. The costumes are purchased regardless.
The Dog’s View
Dogs, it should be noted, do not select their costumes. Dogs submit to their costumes with varying degrees of equanimity: some appear entirely comfortable, some appear philosophically resigned, and some appear to be conducting an internal inquiry into the dignity implications that will conclude the moment an opportunity to remove the item presents itself. The Parisian dog-owner interprets these responses through the lens of a relationship they know well. The dog that tolerates the costume is deemed to enjoy it. The dog that removes the costume as soon as the lead is unclipped is deemed to have made a fashion statement of its own. Both interpretations are loving. Both are slightly inaccurate. Both dogs get an excellent walk afterward, regardless of what they’re wearing. The walk is always the point. The costume is the content.
Pets with opinions, owners with cameras, at Virtuosal.com.
The Scarf as Social Document
The scarf also communicates socially: how a Parisian wears it signals arrondissement, age range, and context to other Parisians in a visual language the non-native cannot read but the native processes automatically. Arriving at a dinner party versus a Sunday market versus a professional meeting requires different configurations. The configuration changes in the lift, in the lobby, at the entrance. Nobody discusses this. Everybody practices it. Paris is a city of constant invisible social calibration, and the scarf is one of its primary instruments. This seems a lot to ask of an accessory. The accessory handles it.
