Nothing defines "High Fashion" in 1964 quite like staring wistfully into the middle distance while using a taxidermy-adjacent giraffe as an armrest. This is the peak of the "I’m a sophisticated suburbanite who secretly wants to go on a safari but only if there’s a cocktail hour" aesthetic. The mint-and-white color palette suggests she’s ready to discuss the merits of a new gelatin-based dessert, while her hair has enough structural integrity to survive a small gale or a particularly spirited game of bridge. It’s an oddly serene standoff between a woman and a very confused-looking plush ungulate.