🧣 “Scarf Before November? We Know Where You’re From”
In Moscow, fall fashion follows a code.
That code was burned into nerve endings back in school: “Don’t freeze, but don’t look like you’re cold.” So — no puffer jackets before November. Just a trench coat that fits like a glove and a look that says, “I’m not shivering. That’s just how I breathe.”
Visitors — especially from southern cities — often give themselves away with a scarf worn too early. Or by stubbornly clinging to a light jacket in October, as if the weather is a temporary glitch. A Muscovite knows: Moscow’s weather isn’t a glitch. It’s just Moscow.
👢 “Boots Like an SUV — But Without a Scratch”
Another giveaway? Footwear. The local wears boots with a sturdy heel and a tread like an SUV — yet not a single scuff. She’s walked through puddles, past construction near Park Kultury, up metro stairs with broken escalators — and emerged dry, composed, and with her makeup intact.
Visitors? Damp sneakers and the hopeful mantra: “It won’t rain today.” Poor soul. Moscow rain doesn’t ask permission.
🌴 “Fall in LA? Just Slightly Moodier Palm Trees”
While the Muscovite battles wind near Kropotkinskaya, in Los Angeles they’re still wearing shorts, light hoodies, and sunglasses — even to dinner. Fall there probably starts when someone puts on a long sleeve. And that’s already a reason for a story: “Fall mood 🍃.”
They don’t have a code — they have a moodboard. Not a trench coat, but an oversized jacket from Zara. And most likely, no one there knows what it means to dress against the weather for the sake of style — because the weather is always on your side.
Here? It sides with drama. And honestly, that’s more fun.
🧠 “Autumn Inside — Like the City Thinks Slower”
But it’s not just about clothes. Autumn in Moscow is when thoughts deepen, steps slow down, and conversations soften. Even the noise on Novokuznetskaya sounds like background music for reflection. It’s the season for letters, books, windows, and not rushing.
☕ “Just Don’t Smile in the Elevator”
Sometimes — especially in November — the lines blur. Muscovites and non-Muscovites alike hide their hands in sleeves, flinch at the first gust of wind, and smile when the coffee shop offers not just a cup, but a little cardboard sleeve.
Autumn in Moscow is when the city feels a bit softer, a bit closer. Even the elevator in an old building on Taganka feels cozy.
Just don’t smile at a stranger in that elevator. That’s pushing it. 😅
“Fall in LA? Just slightly moodier palm trees” – I laughed so hard! The scarf code is real. That comparison of boots with SUV tread but zero scuffs vs our damp sneakers is painfully accurate. You’re right, we have a moodboard, not a code. Moscow’s weather as drama makes so much more sense now. Props to anyone surviving stylishly!