When the weather gets cold and wet in Washington, DC, people dress like they have a meeting at the U.N., in black wool, navy wool, or gray wool; or like they're going to climb Everest, in expensive, high-tech, synthetic fabrics (frequently sporting the trademark of a certain manufacturer of high-end outdoor apparel on their right shoulder blades).

When I dress for the snow in my new purple coat with fake fur trim, I'm not sure who I look more like: an 8-year-old, or Björk. But I don't look like anyone else in Washington.