Meet Blu.

Blu has the peculiar habit of arriving at parties before the parties themselves. Occasionally before the host, and once—allegedly—before the actual idea of the party had formed. Blu’s limbs, which appear to have been borrowed from a windmill on sabbatical, flail about with an alarming yet oddly captivating grace. Spectators have reported feeling both deeply confused and strangely uplifted. Cameras, meanwhile, have given up entirely—Blu simply cannot be captured unfashionably. Attempts to do so have resulted in the cameras themselves filing for 
early retirement.

As for style, Blu possesses a rare gift: the ability to transform absolutely anything into haute couture. Once fashioned a sandwich wrapper into an ascot so convincing that the Snow Queen’s corgis curtsied. Another time, Blu wore a curtain, claimed it was “avant-drape,” and three magazines immediately ran think pieces about it.

Blu does not follow fashion; Blu ambushes it politely, with mint tea and quiet confidence.