I don't know where I was during the late 90's pashmina craze. I wish I meant that in a glamorous, I-was-traveling-the-country-in-my-van-being-documented-for-The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test: Redux sort of way, but really, I probably just didn't pay for my InStyle subscription for a year and missed it. In case you missed it too, a pashmina, at least in terms of the massively popular model from days gone by, looks like this:
Usually cashmere, it can be used as a scarf or a wrap or a blanket or even a crude shelter should you find yourself lost in the woods.
The only reason I'm aware of the pashmina craze at all, actually (besides the vast photographic evidence featuring Jennifer Aniston in airport terminals), is because I most definitely didn't miss out on the Great Pashmina Backlash. Yes, I got out of my Merry Pranksters van in time to read a whole bunch of completely vitriolic anti-pashmina blurbs in various magazines and get really, really confused. Do you remember these? They always went something like this:
Pashminas are out, out, out. The look is dated, drab, and dumb. In fact, you are dumb if you wear one. Want to keep warm? Here's an idea: WEAR A SWEATER, DUMBASS. Whatever you do, just be sure to throw away that pashmina...immediately!
Okay, so maybe they weren't thaaaat intense, but they actually were quite shocking in their anti-pashmina venom. I remember for awhile there, I was reading them at a rate of about one a week and thinking, "Jesus, pashminas must have pissed off the wrong people."
Anyway, the last I heard from the pashmina, they were being violently brought down by the anti-pashmina lobby (perhaps the pro-turtleneck agenda?), and ever since I received a cream-colored, cashmere number from The Pashmina Store a few days ago, I've been even more perplexed as to why everyone was hatin' there for awhile.
The one I got is this style in this gorgeous, creamy beige color, and trust me when I say the picture doesn't do it justice:
It is by far the softest, coziest thing I have ever felt (I hope my cat doesn't read that and get offended). I wore it to class the day I got it, along with a short-sleeved shirt, mini skirt, and thin tights, in winter in Oregon, and I didn't shiver once. I started the day with it tied in a knot around my neck like a scarf, and by my trip home I was curled up under its cashmere goodness, amazed as this wondrous accessory made public transportation as comfortable and calm as my bedroom (with the possible exception of the homeless guy that kept asking me to cure his speech impediment by rubbing his cheek).
I've worn it basically everyday since then, reveling in its versatility and yelling at anyone who comes near me to try to compliment me on it (and there have been many), viewing them only as evil stain-carriers (soldiers from the pro-turtleneck agenda?) out to mar my perfect, beige pashmina.
As you can tell, I have definitely become a member of the pro-pashmina camp. If you think you'd like to join the PPC (which totally sounds like a drug I would do in my imagined magic bus days, and which also seems to have a side effect of paranoia--see paragraph above), check out some of these brightly colored options, all from The Pashmina Store:
This is the same one that I have, in blue. Even though it's shown in the same semi-boring wrap style as the pictures above, you really can wear it however you want. And it's only $69.99 for pure, delicious cashmere.
If you'd rather not have enough fabric to comfortably seat a picnic for a family of four, they have smaller scarf styles in tons of great colors for $35 each:
This would be such a great way to do the yellow trend:
I'd wrap it around my neck under the Mike & Chris black leather jacket that resides in the same fantasy life as my drug-fueled roadtrip with Ken Kesey. Oh, and it's just fifty bucks.
They also offer blankets, shawls, and a style for men, which I was really sad to find out isn't called the "pashman-a." Damn, that worked better in my head.
Check 'em out, and maybe, together, we'll bring pashmina back (raise your hand if you're sick of Justin Timberlake puns. No one? Good).